The Art of Noticing

What does it mean to really, truly notice someone or something?

Reading time: 3 minutes

What does it mean to really, truly notice someone or something? To hold someone’s eye gaze. To study the texture and colour of a flower’s petals. To listen to people’s words and to share your own without distractions and to hold the interaction with openness, honesty and care. To feel the soft, warm breeze tickling your neck and lifting strands of loose hair. To focus on your breath filling your belly and upper chest, then feeling the fall of your shoulders and loosening of your jaw as you exhale. Thanking people for their time and efforts in any capacity throughout your day. To belly laugh until you ache. To cry with full release. To pause and not rush the sensations of each yoga pose. Noticing is an art. Is a practice. Is an intention. Is a choice. Is a practice of patience, gratitude and presence. It is the principles of yoga in motion both on and off the mat. And I had forgotten the power of this until recently.

‘The Art of Noticing’ is a concept I was reminded of a few weeks ago by my sister-in-law when I shared that I was feeling unanchored in physicality and emotionality to myself, to loved ones and to my favourite places and spaces back in my homeland of Southern England, having been travelling and living in and around Canada and Central America for almost two years with my fiancé. While we feel deep gratitude, pride and connection to each other having made our daydreams of these adventures to become our reality, there has been a growing longing for the enveloping and soothing sensation of our ‘home’ in all its forms. It is a deep knowing and a plan-in-motion that London is where we will have our wedding and settle into our marriage. It is a feeling of assuredness and of rootedness at its core. And yet I began to realise that this longing and future planning for our future life in England was taking me out of noticing the beauty and joy within my present-day life here in Vancouver. With our newly established friendships. With our careers. With our apartment, our local community and local parks. Our daily routines.

In recent weeks, this futuristic thinking of returning to our homeland this Summer was combined with the intensity of grieving the loss of a family member to cancer this month, and of another family member to cancer last Summer. Both sudden. Both while we were abroad. This new phase and ongoing phases of grief began to overshadow my joy and my presence here in recent weeks. My need for physical and emotional comfort and familiarity to home was stronger than ever. My fiancé and I have created that feeling of home with each other in our own unique way. We held each other close and processed as best we could while continuing our commitments here. But it is in these times that we need our wider tribe. Need our family and friendship homes. I broke through a deeply engrained pattern of hiding my sadness from others and I opened myself up to family and best friends that I needed to receive more consistent connection and care to ease these emotions, and to refocus on the joy of our lives here until we return to England in July. And I feel a wholeness coming back again. Feel the metaphorical hug from my home within, and from my home of family and friends. And I have intentionally been practicing the art of noticing more within my daily life here. I have begun a new tradition of sharing and receiving images, thoughts and observations with loved ones to feel more connected with my own day to day life here and to theirs too. It is a reciprocal practice. Our homes are filling with guests.

Spring is now in full bloom here. So, my camera roll and WhatsApp chats are now filled with pink and white blossoms adorning the trees. Bursts of vibrant yellow daffodils and dandelions swaying in the grasses. Tulips standing tall and magnolia petals beginning to fall to the soil. The final sprinkling of snow melting on the mountain tops. Songs that lift my soul. Quotes that resonate. My breath feels deeper. My nervous system feels recalibrated. My family and friendship tanks are refilling. My free time is better dedicated to yoga, reading, cooking, writing, nature walks, live music, wedding planning, beach walks, café meet ups with local friends and calling loved ones back home. I am learning how to acknowledge the past, notice the present and look ahead to the future in better balance. I am prioritising the art of noticing. So, this piece serves as a reminder for me to really take the time to notice every aspect of myself, of others and of my present-day experiences that all deserve to be noticed for they all hold unique beauty and meaning.