two pockets..... By Marie Taylor, non-experiencer, http://www.onemountainmanypaths.com/

     On our morning walk, I take two things – Emmie’s leash and her ball. As soon as we reach the field, the leash goes into my left pocket. I throw the ball for her up the old paved road until it changes into the dirt path through the field. Around mid-point of the path, Emmie loses interest in our throwing and fetching game and drifts off fieldward through the bushes and spiked grasses, the ball possessively held in her mouth.

     The weather is very dry now and these brittle grasses do not hold the wet deep smells of spring. But in the field there are rabbit droppings, bird feathers and other intriguing aromas designed to lead a dog by her nose. When she encounters a particularly interesting scent, the ball drops from her moth while she circles the area.

     It is then I must be most alert for, once dropped, the ball is not easily found. I have the habit now of visually marking the spot and while she is off on her exploration I will retrieve the ball and walk back to the path. When she returns to me I hold out the ball to her and show how I am putting it in my jacket pocket for safekeeping. Now relieved of the burden of ball carrying, she jaunts up the path making detours as she sees fit.

     A pocket is a very mysterious thing. When playing with babies, dropping a toy in the pocket seems like magic to them. The toy has disappeared. The pocket acts like an extra mouth of sorts, a place where things are held and carried, then spit out and released when needed. I think that is how Emmie views my pockets- as two extra mouths in which I can carry the leash and ball.

     The mouth is an interesting metaphor. It takes in and holds, it opens and releases. It is the place where nourishment enters and sometimes leaves. There is an old Chinese adage from the I Ching which goes something like this: “To know a man see what he fills his mouth with.” It reminds me of the contemporary “you are what you eat.”

     Our memory acts as a pocket. We store experience there- the events and feelings and thoughts of the past. On occasion, we reach into this mental pocket and pull out a memory, hold it up to view, turn it around, make judgments and comparisons. If we consider the memory useful or fitting, we may apply it to the present or use it for the basis of future action.

     But memories are ‘old food’ that once may have been nourishing but now are like white bread or refined sugar, providing a temporary energy but little nutrition. And, anything that is held or stored runs the risk of spoiling, being kept in an airless darkness.

     When we put the ball in our pocket, or an event or feeling in memory, we have to carry them around indefinitely. How many balls before the pocket is too full? How many memories before the mind is lost in the past?

     If, when going on a walk, I were willing to let go of the ball, leave it in the field where it is dropped, I would not have to watch Emmie so closely. If I could be satisfied to throw the found stick, there would be no need to carry a ball at all.

     If, when going through life, I were willing to let go of memories, leave them in the past where they occurred, I would not have to watch the present for signs and omens. If I could be satisfied to let the present unfold by itself, there would be no need to plan, judge, evaluate, predict, reflect, fear, anticipate.

     To live without pockets requires willingness. In willingness is freedom.