06.26.2026 The Art of Moving Mindfully After a very long and rainy spring, it now feels like summer has planted it’s roots firmly on the east coast. As the season changes, I’m spending more time outside – in the garden, on evening walks, and long days of climbing with friends. My body feels ready to move after the stagnancy of winter. If we’re lucky, our bodies can move as the seasons do, ramping up in the summer months.  When we talk about meditation and mindfulness, the conversation can often focus on sitting and finding “stillness.” But we don’t need to be still to be mindful — we can bring the practice of awareness into our movement, too. By doing so, our bodies become the ultimate tool to bring us into the present moment. Our thoughts are always with us as we move through our daily lives, as Cyndi Lee explains in “How to Practice Embodied Mindfulness.” She writes: “Mind and body aren’t really separate. Whether you are talking, writing, planning, or worrying, you are still in your body. And when you are biking, sleeping, or walking the dog, your thoughts still come and go.” When we recognize the power of bringing mindfulness to all of our activities, we’re met with a great opportunity to tap into endless moments of practice. In sports and athletics, mindfulness can also have a huge impact on our performance and attitude. In my conversation with rock climber Francis Sanzaro, we discussed the way that climbing brings us into a deep awareness that can continue far beyond our experiences on the rock wall. “Climbing is really the art of listening,” Sanzaro told me. As a climber myself, I know this to be true. I’ve learned to listen to my mind, body, and the environment around me for a successful climb. The three pieces below each examine our relationship with movement. I hope they bring an element of mindfulness to however you choose to move this weekend. —Martine Panzica, Digital Assistant Editor, Lion’s Roar The Power of Awareness: An Interview with Rock Climber Francis Sanzaro Martine Panzica talks to author and rock climber Francis Sanzaro about his book The Zen of Climbing and the power of mindfulness in sport and our lives as a whole. I started climbing seriously when I was 13 and discovered Buddhism about two years later. The two of them have been in my life in a serious way for about 30 years now, but I didn’t always see the connections between them. It took a long time. In climbing, I paid attention to my body and to what I was doing when I’m up there — awareness is really crucial. My earliest and most important takeaway from Buddhism was the best thing you can do is study your mind — to really just put the lens back on yourself and figure out what’s going on. What are your desires doing to you, for better or worse? What are the cycles of unhappiness that you’re having? That was my earliest takeaway and I just kind of took it and ran. ADVERTISEMENT A Mindful Movement Practice for Embodied Awareness You don’t just practice mindfulness with your mind. You practice it with your body too. Yoga teacher and Buddhist Cyndi Lee teaches us how.   Traditional seated mindfulness meditation instructions are to notice when the mind has strayed and return it to the breath. In mindful movement, each time you notice you’ve been engrossed in thought, you can return your attention to the feeling of your feet on the floor, the sweat on your skin, the sound of your breath, or the muscular effort required for a longer yoga hold — any sensation that is alive for you right then. Clearing the mind via the vibrancy of the body’s sensations, and moving with a quality of presence instead of watching the clock, or your walking app, give you a sense of integration and embodiment. It’s a great way to get through the day, almost as if you were on retreat. Running into Joy Sometimes sitting with her sadness becomes too difficult. But Vanessa Zuisei Goddard has learned she can run with it—and through it.   Long before I’d learned of endorphins or opiate receptors, years before I’d heard of “the zone,” I sensed that one way to counter my sadness was to run with and through it. Over time I came to see there’s two main kinds of pain: pain we must understand and pain we can only bear. So when sitting with my feelings became too difficult, running with them helped me to feel without fixing, to let what was there be there without judgment or suppression. To this day, running continues to be a very simple and reliable source of joy for me. Joy at being able to inhabit and use this body. Joy at the wonder of breath and movement and the mystery that is this life.