THE ART OF OBSERVING

My morning ritual begins with a timed run around my local elementary school track, usually at the same time as other runners, other dog owners, and the grounds crew for the school district. 

But on amazing days, I have the track all to myself. The first mile is mostly mental sticky wickets: me realizing how tired my legs are and reminding myself to send an email to that person first thing. And then something magical happens. All that chatter dies down and I notice the crunch of the gravel underfoot, the changing leaves in the trees overhead, the cotton tail bunny who freezes as I round the corner. 

My breathing slows, my stride lengthens and relaxes, and my shoulders fall (they are usually scrunched up around my ears). I take deep, cleansing breaths. 

I’m no longer a runner, but an observer. The need to send an email recedes into the back of my brain and is no longer pressing on me. The feel of fresh air on my face reminds me how lucky I am to live in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. I’m grateful for legs that can run and lungs that can breathe deeply. 

But not everything about observing needs to be about gratefulness. So much of observing is simply recognizing our humanness. 

Some mornings during the third mile, I observe that I am more tired than I thought, and I remind myself to run slower, still allowing for the movement and exercise, but that I’m not in a race and there’s no need to set a new 5k record every single morning.

Last but not least, for me, the art of observing is to learn new things each and every day. 

The late poet Mary Oliver taught us all by example to observe through her beautiful poetry, and in her esteemed A POETRY HANDBOOK, she talks about reading deeply and widely. This is not about competition, and it isn’t to remind us to be thankful for all that we have, but to keep us in the habit to never stop learning. So often, we think we must learn these big lessons in life, when a simple lesson brings the most resonance to our souls. 

Welcome to the Art of Observing. I’m really glad you are here. If you’d like to sign up to receive my newsletter, which will run concurrently with this blog, you can do so here.