The wedge of pages in your right hand is growing ever thinner, you’re eyeing up the next volume in your To Be Read pile, and still I’m yammering on about standing around in the garden. It’s kind of central to this whole thing. And part of that is because what I’m getting at is so easily misunderstood.

This posture is not so much a rigid and physical affair. To stand still here, with purpose, is not about the absence of fidgeting. It’s not even about standing – some may need to sit or lie instead, and this should present no obstacle.

This is about entering a state of receptive restfulness, immersed in your surroundings and alive to every detail, while feeling no immediate obligation to make a change. It’s about being engaged, and taking notice, and maybe thinking about sorting this or tweaking that… but also, maybe not.

So, fidget, flick your fingers, wander, or wheel yourself about a bit. If that’s what being at rest looks like for you. Whatever you need, to feel truly present.

Go into the garden and find that spot where you feel at once most comfortable and, also, most alive. You will know the one.

A pause. A breath.

Do nothing – your own best version of doing nothing. This is harder than it sounds.

Now, slowly, begin to cycle through your senses; scent first, then taste – the air, a blade of grass, a hawthorn leaf – then touch, and hearing. Leave sight till last, we tend to overuse that one if blessed with it. Become adept at concentrating upon signals from each source, and then in combination.

Take a mental inventory of what the garden contains: plants, animals, and birds, sounds and smells. This is never complete but becomes more comprehensive every time.

Cultivate a habit of passing the time of day with anything on the above list.

Offer up thanks, in whatever manner and direction you feel led, for the fellowship of soil and sky, leaf and flower, bird and bee, before carrying on with your day. And resolve to come back and do the same tomorrow.

Look, I’m standing, you say. Standing still. Can I get on with things now? Well, yes of course – always! But also, maybe hold up a while. What’s the hurry?

(Extract from To Stand and Stare)