10. Standing in the polarity of Yes and No

This is another Wise Fool School production by Frankie Briers. He invited us to stand in the polarity of Yes and No. This has a very particular practice as a standing meditation. He explains:

The polarity of Yes and No is present in us at any moment: bone structure is saying no to gravity; soft tissue is saying yes to gravity. So how relaxed can you get without going floppy? Can you create tone without tension?.

Relaxation and tone is one healthy polarity; collapsed and tense is an unhealthy polarity.

The yes and no create each other: soft tissue can only say yes to gravity because bones are providing structure by saying no. The less effective your no, the less effective your yes too.

If you can really mean no when you say no, then you can really mean yes when you say yes. But when you say yes when you really mean no ... then your yeses will only be partial (as you have to be cautious about what you commit to) and you can't completely trust yourself or your judgement.

After bringing tea to my wife this morning, I sat on the floor working my knuckles into the soles of my feet. These feet that have carried me quite uncomplainingly for a lifetime. Yes, I thought I’d give back for 5 minutes. Per foot, no less.

Late morning – our surrounding hills hidden by clouds, rain pouring down, lochans forming in the garden – seemed an ideal time to take Scally for a walk. This is Scotland. I am covered head to foot in the best waterproof materials money can buy. I point that out because I was soaked (through four layers) down to my skin when I got home.

Anyhoo, walking is standing, isn’t it? Sort of? When I got onto the path, I thought I would yes-no-yes-no my way along.

For a long time, I have walked as an action. More recently, I have been trying to walk as a non-action - each step created by the release of stretched tendons; a bit more boing-boing than stomp-stomp. When it works, I have a clearer sense of ease, less effort, and more contact with Mother Earth. The trees change imperceptibly but definitely. Instead of striding forwards into the landscape, I remain still and the landscape approaches me.

So, how about letting the ground come up to support me, rather than treading down onto it? Today, this experiment was made particularly challenging by the weather conditions and the walking boots I was wearing. My newly-tenderised feet were yearning to feel, but the boots had them muffled in thick walls.

Nonetheless, I found up and downs all around me. The river, which was extremely full and fast-flowing, was sliding downwards at gravity’s behest. The trees high on the bank were constantly pushing upwards and outwards.

I started looking out for the mother trees, those that have spawned and support the offspring around them. They weren’t particularly obvious this morning. Possibly all the trees have been around long enough that their sizes have evened out; possibly the mother was actually hidden on the other bank and these trees came from her seeds blown across the river. Even so, the trees took on fascinating shapes as they grew around each other.

Standing among them, I look up and see the branches of different trees match like perfect jigsaw pieces, leaving a few inches of space for sunlight to shine through to the ground. Together they create a shady canopy that offers some incomplete respite from the rain.

It strikes me that I am walking through a quiet, peaceful community; that none of these trees are alone; there is ongoing communication and support between them.

I think of my standing. No, I will not yield to gravity’s pull; yes, I will soften and release. And I think of those precious moments when the up is offered up by the ground through me. I am not saying no to gravity; I am saying yes to the earth. I am receiving support. Even standing here alone in the rain and the mist, I am supported. I am held.