
Perception Exercise in Nature
Drawing Near to What Touches Me...
- I go outside into nature — into the forest, the garden, or onto a quiet street — even if the weather does not particularly invite me.
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After a few minutes of walking, I slow down and begin to notice (sensing, hearing, seeing, smelling…).
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I approach the place or object that draws me. There I pause.
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I linger, take in, savor…
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I notice whether something from God comes toward me in this experience…
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When the moment has been fully tasted, I move on — open to what comes next.
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When the time comes to an end, I turn back.
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On the way home, I may tell God what lies on my heart.
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Back home: How was it for me? What was important? I write down a thought or perception.
If you have tried the exercise once, you can deepen it in the following way:
- Before going outside, choose a clear starting point. For example, set a timer for 20 minutes. This makes it clear: “I am practicing staying with my perception for 20 minutes.” It will then be easier to return to awareness when you get distracted.
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As you walk, consciously sense the ground beneath your feet, the wind on your skin, the warmth of the sun — from the obvious to the subtle.
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Listen attentively to the sounds around you (cars, birdsong, the rustling of the wind…) — from the loud to the quiet.
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Pick things up and explore them with your hands: a stone, the bark of a tree, a twig — from the rough to the fine.
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Look at what surrounds you as if for the first time. Notice details: a flower, a leaf, the colors and shapes that speak to you and resonate in your body.
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Smell the air around you. If you like, smell trees or other things you might not normally bring close to your nose.
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If I drift into thinking or analyzing (e.g., “This is a beech tree, that an oak…”), I let the thoughts pass and return to perception. If feelings arise, I briefly notice them without judgment and return again to perception.
I go among trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
around me like circles on water.
My tasks lie in their places
where I left them, asleep like cattle.
Then what is afraid of me comes
and lives a while in my sight.
What it fears in me leaves me,
and the fear of me leaves it.
It sings, and I hear its song.
Then what I am afraid of comes.
I live for a while in its sight.
What I fear in it leaves it,
and the fear of it leaves me.
It sings, and I hear its song.
After days of labor,
mute in my consternations,
I hear my song at last,
and I sing it. As we sing,
the day turns, the trees move.
“I go among trees and sit still.” from This Day: Collected and New Sabbath Poems 1979-2012. Copyright © 1979 by Wendell Berry.
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Counterpoint Press, counterpointpress.com.