Observe and explore more

I’m not doing it every hour, on the hour or anything, but whenever the idea pops up, about once a day, I take a moment to close my eyes and perceive my environment without vision.

For such a short pause from the usual, it is surprisingly grounding.

I recently became aware that almost all of my observations are visual – I can spend all day in a place and recall all the visuals, but I have very little memory of the smells, the tactile feel, or the sounds (beyond, perhaps, conversation) of having been there.

When I was lying in my bed thinking about this fact, I thought of how bad off I’d be if I ever lost my vision – I don’t know about you, but I haven’t ever consciously exercised my ability to observe with my other senses. Until now, that is.

Today I will make an effort to shut my eyes and take in the smells, sounds and feel of where I’m at, every hour on the hour, from noon to nine o’clock tonight. Hopefully at the end of the day I’ll have distinctly non-visual observations of ten moments in time that I would otherwise never have noticed.

I’m really rather excited!

I think she’s been absent (or just quiet?) for a while…

Hoooooooope,,,,,, where arrrrrrrrre uuuuuuuuuuu?

As I stepped out my door this morning, into the still, dark cold, I noticed the dusting of cottony snowflakes was aglitter with diamond dust, twinkling coyly across the entire yard and beyond. I just stood there for a few seconds, gently swaying from side to side and trying to blur my vision so I could discern only the points of light in an otherwise frosted, gauzy picture.

Lovely morning so far – I got up late, around seven o’clock, made a delicious green chai tea, and wrote a couple of pages. Then walked down to the Fitness Studio for my Nia class. I thought the 8:30 class was at 8:00 so I was the first to arrive, and had the pleasure of greeting with a smile each of the other women as they rolled in. Lotsa hugs all around :o)

This morning’s Nia class was the best yet. Susan introduced some new elements to the routine, and I relaxed into them well enough to find my groove several times. I could see my curves reflected back at me in the mirror, and for once I felt sexy and fluid and pretty.

After class I came home to make a hearty breakfast, after which I indulged in a little lay-down. Nice little nap, and when I woke up and (eventually) got my butt moving again, I went out to putter in the garden. As always, I started out by simply looking around for where to begin and, as always, felt overwhelmed by the amount of work that still needs to be done out there. I stuck it out though and decided to move the four small boxwoods out from the side of the shed to in front of it, along either side of the new walkway up to the doors.

Once I got started pulling weeds and turning over the soil, I noticed how pleasurable it felt to plunge my hands wrist-deep into the cool earth. And I was more than a little flattered by how many giant juicy worms have taken up residence in my yard. Must be doing something right after all!

Once the boxwoods were moved over and nestled snugly into their new locale, and I began tidying up my tools and bag of weeds, something near the cannas caught my eye. To my delight, I spied a sweet, delicate hummingbird hovering level with the canna blooms, presumably hunting for sweets. I stood riveted for a few moments, and then zing! another hummingbird zipped past my head, dive bombed the one I had been watching, and took off over the hedge and out of my sight. My little bird immediately gave chase, thus ending what I consider to be a special little reward for my having tended the garden a while.

I liked how I was ‘seeing things’ on Saturday night in Niagara Falls… there’s something about holding the camera that opens my eyes to different perspectives; it really encourages mindful, creative observation.

This morning I met my friend David at the park for a jog, and on my way out to the car, I spied a cute li’l raccoon out at the far end of the yard, munching happily on a stale pita pocket, one of the many that I threw outside yesterday after cleaning out the fridge. What a sweet face – such gentle, innocent eyes. I’m awfully glad I looked around rather than just absent-mindedly jumping in the car and taking off.

During our run, while David and I alternated gasps for air with raspy, choked conversation, we both heard a distant cry. It was at once familiar and foreign, but I really didn’t pay it any attention. Luckily, David did, and as we got closer to it, he laughed and wondered aloud “what’s that rooster doing downtown??” I’m awfully glad he was observant enough for us both, prompting me to take note of that puzzling good-morning call. I had the pleasure of hearing it several more times before we ran out of audible range.

Introducing my pretty little newborn:

In my mad rush to get to work this morning I raced past the house, past the deck and almost to the car door when ping! – my attention suddenly struck back to something my eyes had just scanned but that took an extra moment to leap the synapses and register in my consciousness. And guess what? I’d whisked past the very first-ever clematis that my poor neglected, growth-stunted, malnourished and parched clematis vine has ever blossomed. I stopped in my tracks, and returned to really see this wonder of wonders. So beautiful, so perfect, so welcome. And to think, I almost missed it.