Fox Walking

For most of us humans, the simple act of walking, of taking a series of steps, is just a continuous exercise in avoiding falling on our face. It looks like this: lean forward until you overbalance and start to fall; use momentum to swing your leg forward, just in time to catch yourself; hope there is no hole or haphazardly placed object to take us down; repeat. Left, right, left. This precarious form of walking feels so normal and is such a habit that we are not even aware that it might be done a different way!

If we allow ourselves to take a lesson from our animal neighbors, we find that there are, in fact, many other ways to walk. The red fox moves over the earth not in a series of near-catastrophic falls, but in a centered and precise manner. It glides along with grace, poise, and a sense of presence in each step. Whether the fox is moving fast or slow, its well-being and its ability to provide for its family requires this. Its self-awareness of every foot’s contact with the earth tells it what it needs to know, even as its other senses are focused elsewhere on the land.

Perhaps like our modern style of walking, we live out of sync with the present moment as well. Off-balance and so eager to reach someplace else, we are rarely ever here now but rather leaning, as it were, into the future and hoping something catches us before we fall. What if we were to take a page from the book of the fox? The present moment is, after all, the only place we can act, effect change, and celebrate life. Instead of losing ourselves to the mind’s endless wandering and worrying, we can choose to come to our senses, and like the fox, we can move with grace, awareness, and a lightness of being.

Try: Choose a spot where you can practice walking like a fox.¹ This can even be a great activity to do barefoot. You don’t need much space. Just a short path you can walk back and forth on will do.

Begin by coming more fully into your body. Allow a few moments to bring your awareness to rest on your body as a whole, simply standing here on the earth. If you are indoors, you can sense how the floor beneath you is supported by the structure of the building, which, in turn, is supported by the earth beneath that. Stand in such a way that you are upright and feel balanced but not stiff. Shift your weight as needed so your upper torso is over the hips and your feet are on the ground, toes facing forward about hip-width apart. Knees are slightly bent, hands crossed on your belly or clasped loosely behind your back, and your gaze is soft and outward looking.

After a few conscious breaths you can begin. Start when you are ready by choosing to take a step. Pick up one foot while still standing straight and balanced. You can explore forward with that foot without having “stepped” or shifted your weight yet at all. Allow that foot to touch the earth with an exploratory feeling, ball of the foot making first contact and then gently letting toes and heel down to touch. Still no weight has been shifted to this foot. You are simply feeling what is there to be felt beneath your foot and adjusting as needed for a better placement. Now, with the fox in mind, you can simply transition your weight from the back foot to the front foot, staying present the whole time. There is no need to push off as you move or to fall into the new step but rather sense that you are seamlessly gliding forward. As the weight moves and your body shifts, your back foot simply peels off the ground without effort, and the process continues.

At slow speeds and at first it is normal for there to be some shakiness as the body learns. With time and practice, though, you will find that you indeed move more like the fox: balanced and centered, lifting and placing, feeling and responding, shifting and gliding through your steps, your days, and your life, your senses fully tuned into your body and intimately aware of your connection to the world as you move through time and space.