See the Bumblebee -- Vis, Croatia

I went walking yesterday morning. I donned my sweater, avoided my shoes and left our small staff bedroom as my iPhone switched from 5:59 to 6:00. The grass was cold. The rocks were colder. The grass was sharp. The stones were sharper. It took me two hours to walk what most could traverse easily in thirty minutes.

I felt every second. I thought about every step, exploring the ground before committing my weight to the earth. I found joy in the pain and joy in the pleasure. Pain taught me to be mindful and pleasure taught me to cherish the benefit of my mindfulness.

Instead of reading a quote during the savasana of my morning yoga class (which focused on back bends), I shared what I'd learned during my walk.

"I've started walking barefoot. I want to grow more sensitive to my surroundings -- the softness of the grass, the smoothness of stone, the warmth, the cold, the jagged surfaces, the prickly plants, the soil that takes the shape of my foot as I step on and past.

"Walking without shoes makes me very deliberate about where I set my feet. I must move lightly and with mindfulness that foot protection renders unnecessary.

"Will that plant feel soft or will it sting?

"During my barefoot morning jaunt, I noticed that the rhythm of my walking would have landed my left foot atop a big, black bumblebee -- which would have been unfortunate for the both of us. But because I had removed the barrier between my feet and the earth and was forcing myself to walk mindfully, I noticed the bee and stopped in time. I wished him good luck with the rest of his day and gingerly tip-toed on.

"Had I been wearing shoes, I would have counted on them to keep me safe and would have walked with less awareness -- which probably would have resulted in the premature death of my six-legged friend. This would have been tremendously unfortunate for him and I wouldn't have even noticed.

"This made me think about the other walls we build. Around our hearts, around our minds, around our spirits. We use shoes to protect our feet -- what barriers have we erected to protect the rest?

"We raise walls out of fear of pain. We keep people at a distance because we don't want to be hurt, but these walls destroy our sensitivity and we can never be sure of how many bumblebees we step on. We can never love fully through these walls because we have compromised our ability to connect.

"I encourage you to find a wall you've built in the past. What does this wall serve to protect? Fear of failure? fear of pain? fear of loss?

"I encourage you to remove this barrier. Tear down this wall and allow yourself to be sensitive to life. Let mindfulness blossom in the place your wall once stood.

"Let yourself see the bumblebee."