Stop for a Minute

Stop for a Minute

Our eyes are amazing. In concert with our brains, they are constantly compiling pieces into a whole that we interpret and accept. 

On my desk, a mug holds a collection of colored pencils. A jar holds some shiny night sky shapes. A stack of colored index cards is within easy reach. To my right, a pile of books. To my left, an old fashioned alarm clock. 

But think about it. 

My brain and eyes see brown pencil, blue pencil, grass green pencil, (I won’t name the whole rainbow of colors out of love for you) nail file?!, scissors, orange pencil whose tip has been broken, IN a white mug that says “yes,” (in black) “and” (in gray). At some point, probably long ago, my brain and I agreed that it worked to consolidate this to “mug of pencils”. 

Peering into the jar of shaped sequins, I see moon crescents, Saturn shapes, stars. I see blue, silver, purple. I see shiny and shadows. When I shake it, it stirs up some black glitter that I thought would be pretty, but it is a disappointment. When I see this out of the corner of my eye, I don’t see all these things. I remember a conversation I had during my coach training and I chose this structure to help me to remember to play in mystery and mischief. 

Why is there an alarm clock on my desk? Why does it read the wrong time? Originally this light blue clock with big white block numbers, the hour hand, the minute hand, the second hand, the two blue bells on top with a silver hammer and handle were an attempt to get my phone and other screen-y devices away from my bedside. Now she just makes me happy (and she needs a new battery). Most of the time, my brain just sees ‘clock’. 

When was the last time you let your brain and eyes take a slow wander over the things you breeze past every day. Your spice rack? Your toiletries and getting ready for the day stuff? The view from a window? Eight inches off a walking path, then three feet, onto six feet, finally 20 feet into the woods. Then at the ground, moving up to natural eye level, looking up with your neck at a forty-five degree angle. 

What do you become aware of? 

This is an inefficient way to live our every days. 

But what would happen if you set a timer for ten minutes (five?) and let your eyes and brain take a slow walk around a space that you ‘don’t see’ all the time? 

I look forward to hearing your what you see.