the art of noticing

How perfect is this. That world can envelop me entirely and I can feel it on my skin, the air around me cushioning. I am grateful for so many things. The delicacies are within the simplest and most abundant. I find myself daydreaming about life and all it’s intricacies, the momentum of each day and how much freedom I have, how much we all have. The stirrings of my appreciation start in the morning. When my eyes open, before I remember myself completely and there is just the silence and the smallest sounds underneath. Like the tiny echoes of dust falling or the claws of the cat on the kitchen floor. I soak in it. The creak of a wall and then bump of something somewhere moving, a harmonious blunder of existing and I am sharing this place and space with all of it. It bends into my thought, the sensations of my arms under the blanket and the difference of temperature between under and over. I feel like only the top half of my body is awake and I am dislocated from this long stretch of being that is taking up the bed below me. I am concentrating on the top but then I bring my awareness to all the parts of me that make this cohesive vessel. My landscape.

My favorite part of interacting with other people, is taking in their details. There is so much beauty in all of nature, sometimes I wonder why I am so intrigued with other humans. A tree is easier to look at and doesn’t feel weird about examination, that I know of. I pick up on the sweet similarities between my counterparts and I feel endeared by them, enamored of all their character, and the lives that I imagine. Mostly, I find things to love about them… on the days when I am tuned in. A movement, how someone moves their hands while they speak, a laugh that sounds like the soul cracking open, ruffled, rushing, and seriousness. I love all the returning to childishness, the goofy, playful friendliness that surfaces between friends. Thinking faces, or eyes that dart back and forth in thought. I love the missed button, a stain, the not caring and yet looking absolutely always perfect. The emotions that come out through eyes and tuck under chins and run down into the way someone is walking. The art of noticing and how there is so much to take in, I could watch all day and love more and more.

As if to amaze more, I turn my eyes to nature and wonder how it can all be so interlocked. So astoundingly visual and underneath sensual. How when I sink my hands into the ground, I can find layer upon layer of magic and I can look closer and find something completely new. From microscopic to the electricity heavy in the air before a thunder storm. I am in the middle of it when I am watching, the spider that tickles my arm and starts jerking it’s body into a frenzy to move faster than I can see. Dropping to my hands and knees, how is it possible to live in the majesty of all that moves and doesn’t move. Stationary, the forest in the trees and how it all blossoms outward, giving life and taking it away. I can breath and think of the air and the life that I take to give my own and how I can’t begin to understand all the color, when my eyes only pick up my possibilities. The power in water and how it can well up and pour down, around, wearing away and make paths where there was nothing. I bring it in my body, let it wear away the lack, hydrating my spirit and that vibrant growth of connection.

I can feel the vibrations to everything around me. To the tip of a strangers nose, to the dotting of ants on the sidewalk downtown, to the lakes that contain me in dreams and hold my body when I swim. I don’t need to see it, I feel the earth much more and it guides me deeper into my appreciation, into my love for the raw ripeness of life. To the sounds that I can finally hear when I stop ignoring, to fine tuning of my instrument, my heart recognizes my surroundings and divulges, drinks it up. Paying attention to the orchestra, the symphony that drips from the tongues of animals and slips through my hands as sand. I pay attention and love it more every day, more and more.