This weekend, I drove the 50 miles to Mt. Tamalpais for a long run. I arrived at 8:30 a.m. and began the 2000-foot climb from Muir Woods to the ridge of the Coastal Range.
Mt. Tam is the premier running site in the San Francisco Bay Area. As I’ve mentioned, it’s one of the most beautiful places on earth. From the Pan Toll ranger station, you can choose many trails, with views of meadows and woods that cascade to the sparkling Pacific below.
But the scenery meant little as I set off. I was feeling dull of spirit, and I simply couldn’t imagine blessing anyone. I hadn’t the heart for it, and so I simply ran and tried to relax, knowing there was a good chance the run would end early, and come to nothing spiritually.
I realized that all I wanted was to get back my heart’s sincere feelings. I didn’t want big experiences, spiritually or athletically, I just wanted to be real. And so I trotted on, trying to be in my true heart with each turn of the trail. I put my attention at the point between the eyebrows and in my heart, and I felt that I was happiest when my awareness merged fully into the moment.
After a long time, the dryness began to lift, though my body continued to feel heavy and slow. But I let it do as it pleased, running as my heart felt comfortable, not seeking “more,” but content to let the body have its lead. Meanwhile, I fell into looking for the place of utter sincerity in the most remote and intimate corner of my heart.
I scolded God for withholding His love. Why would He hide the power of loving Him, when it meant so much to me – everything! – and it would cost Him so little to give? As I prayed, I imagined God’s presence, kind and tender, and the feeling of His love, and increasingly, I began to feel that He was near.
I’ve always felt that our interactions with others are an accurate mirror of the condition of our hearts. It’s easy to remain self-centered and indifferent when all we’re feeling is pious emotion, but if we’re truly feeling God’s love, it flows out calmly to bless others, because that’s its nature. Needless to say, it isn’t easy to achieve that level of self-offering.
I was heading back toward Pan Toll on the beautiful Coastal Trail, which swoops gloriously through meadows and forest glades. I had been running for about two hours, and the hikers were starting to come out to enjoy a rare sunny day in January.
I’d been thinking about the duality of human experience, and how we exist in two worlds at once, an outer and an inner world. Inside, we find our core and our deepest, innocent truth, while outwardly we’re conditioned to all kinds of behaviors that may not reflect our true nature.
I was feeling so inwardly connected with God, and I was so sweetly enjoying that inward gaze, that I didn’t want to lose it by going too far outward when I passed the hikers. There were many groups – lines of old people with walking sticks, and groups of children with their guides. As they approached, I turned inward and asked God to show me how it would please Him to behave. And each time, whether I said “good morning” or passed in silence, I felt some inexpressible core of joy and love “smiling me,” and radiating its beams from my face. It was lovely, and quite impersonal.
Weeks earlier, I had finally begun to understand the truth of those wonderful Happy Heart runs: each one of them, without exception, had begun with a sincere prayer to give up the little ego and not run for myself, or for fitness, or for pride, or to show off, but only to love God and bless others. I had finally come the long journey back to the heart.
I suspected that it wouldn’t be easy to return there during each run. The ego is cunning and strong. But, truly, it’s a question of knowing what to focus on. I find that there’s no room, at the start of a run or at any other point, for a wandering mind. Yes, the thoughts will wander. But I must ride the mind – lasso it and let the wild horse run, but keep it within the confines of the corral until it comes to an obedient canter.
It isn’t easy, but it’s simple: Don’t anticipate, but become absorbed. Don’t look to the future, but look more and more into the now. Don’t want, but give. Don’t think what you could have, but what you do have – a God who’s ever with you, who accepts you completely as you are, who wants to give you His love and is waiting for your call.
