Why would we bother transferring our meditation practise into the natural wild environment? A question I couldn't have answered a decade ago, despite feeling something calling deep inside me to continue doing it. 

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We often try so hard to create the ideal outer situation to meditate in. A cocoon devoid of sound, stimulation, discomfort and so called 'distractions'. It always fascinated me when I met practitioners, even meditation teachers, who insisted on requiring a space so perfect for meditation it's as though we wouldn't have to deal with any obstacle aside from what the space presented us. 

Don't take my introduction here as a complete dismissal of the advantages of a quiet space conducive for settling the body and mind. But my question is how successfully does our practise of meditation translate in to our daily lives, when 'performed' in perfect external situations?

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I remember making a conscious decision to meditate in 'unfavourable' situations during a period of my life when I was travelling a lot. As I began this journey, to my surprise, I experienced moments of blissful embodiment and inner tranquillity, within external 'chaos'. 
Afterwards I would check up to see if these moments were harbouring dissociation and disconnection, and confidently I found the answer was no. At these moments of utilising a practise of embodied awareness I sensed deep connections to what was taking place; connections to the energies in myself, wholehearted relations with people and an opening to the environment itself.

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This nomadic lifestyle then led to two and a half years of meditation retreats in Nepal and India. The external conditions in these retreats were abundantly favourable for practise. My days consisted of many hours a day sitting on the cushion, and to my surprise and amusement, I found I wanted to sit and practise in between sessions also. However, in between sessions I yearned to meditate outside in wild nature, not within the confines of 4 walls. I would walk in nature and locate beneficial spaces to sit, whether on specific rocks, patches of grass or under certain trees. It felt as if I was being called and invited to sit and share in these spaces. A digestion of experience would naturally occur, and I often felt my chest open, allowing a part of my warmed heart to shine through. This is where I consider some of my own inner wisdom would surface to meet the universal wisdom of nature itself. These experiences were some of my most precious while in retreat, they intrigued me to experiment further.

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So, over the last 10 years since that time, I have continued a process of actively engaging in my practices and commitments, outside in nature, not just on the cushion in front of my altar. I have deliberately sought out spaces outside in nature that are beneficial for practise. I open myself up to be called to an area, rock, tree or river. Often sitting with wind, snow, rain, heat, insects or noise. 
From that, what has continually grown as an experience is that when I surrender to the place and all it presents, I connect much more deeply with universal reality. While engaging with wild natural space in this way, I experience on a deeper and more subtle way my inner essence and place within life. Not just the association of being Keiron with so and so problems and struggles, but instead experiencing a deeply felt coming together of universal reality and my own essential nature.

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To extend this further I have found practising deity practices to be extremely beneficial, when done in nature. The energy of the deity practised, can be sensed within certain areas or natural environments. When we sit in these spaces and open up to the energy, our own energy aligns with what is expressed through the deity/environment. There can be a blissful blur of the boundary between relative self and deity. 
In the moment we open ourselves up to the pure energy at play we reciprocally and simultaneously bless, and are blessed, by the environment. I suspect that is what is suggested by the notion of the mandala; a space where the energy of the deity manifests and is experienced in but a moment of time. Not some rigid permanent material structure and space but rather a dynamic, constantly adjusting, and alive play of form and emptiness. 

It is maybe from this space and experience that we can begin to let go of creating controlled meditation environments in order to practise...

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Historically, when we look at the famous stories of the often-unconventional Mahasiddhas we see great examples of applying the wisdom of the Dharma to what could be viewed as questionable lifestyles. When contemplating the life stories of the Mahasiddhas I can't help but feel I don't necessarily need to shave the head and bear the robe or create perfect havens for meditation, in order to truly practise. 

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So then, coming back to sitting in our protected, quite meditation rooms, of course there are many advantages for creating these spaces and holding them sacred. But on that quest, I don't think we can deny our daily lives the incredible resource of practising awareness spontaneously, organically and wholeheartedly; what could be seen as actually applying the practise.

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My conclusion after many years of practising meditation in daily life and in nature itself, is that it is fundamental if we wish to establish a healthy sense of self and who we are in the world. It provides a perspective of our life that is in line with reality, at the most important moments.  This process doesn't necessarily need to be labelled 'meditation', but rather just experience. An experience of self within nature and of nature itself.