Paying Attention
This morning I walked into the kitchen and a shaft of light hit the table, it filled the large clay bowl with the four lemons in it. The light from above, the glaze of the earthen bowl reflecting it, and the intense yellow of the lemons radiating it back out. It was like an exquisite prayer. I stood there for awhile, folding my own hands into quiet attenton. There is nothing to be said about this except to notice the incredible beauty with which objects reveal themselves to us.
- Burghild Nina Holzer
March flits through the snow-tipped trees with the returning robins, not here for certain but clinging lightly to the hard new buds of the bare branches and then lifting off and gone. This is the time of year a hint of renewal stirs in the breezes. The earth is ready for something new. Aren't we all?
Today I give you an assignment in observation, the first step in deep appreciation. Why? Because to really appreciate your life and your environment right now, where you stand, is to fully embody living. Only by this conscious act of paying attention, of being present, do we notice the beauty and miracle that exists around us. You or I might be standing at the bus stop and notice that the blue awning on the shop across the street is our favorite shade of alpine blue. We might be the person in anonymous green scrubs laying out sterile instruments in the hospital operating room who suddenly grasps how much we love this dedicated, focused supportive teamwork, the mission of the work we do. Or perhaps, like I did yesterday sitting in my tax accountant's office, experience an overwhelming sense of gratitude people of all interests (and thankfully great talent with numbers) walk this earth. The light is reflected back from the bowl.
But back to the assignment. If you can, spend three to five minutes looking at something in depth today. It can be a chair, a milk carton, your fingernail. Look from the outermost to the innermost level of detail you can, taking the object in. Let the largesse of the object as well as the details form a sense of knowing in your mind. That you comprehend and are curious about this object, appreciate it to the fullest degree. Now write about it, or draw. A quick paragraph or sketch, nothing formal just a splurge of expression - all art is at its core a translation. What we take from this exercise is an awareness of how we translate life. All the time. In our work, our love, our complaints and observations. As Burghild Holzer put it, quiet attention is like a prayer. We are part of a constant renewal that is there just for the looking.
- Burghild Nina Holzer
March flits through the snow-tipped trees with the returning robins, not here for certain but clinging lightly to the hard new buds of the bare branches and then lifting off and gone. This is the time of year a hint of renewal stirs in the breezes. The earth is ready for something new. Aren't we all?
Today I give you an assignment in observation, the first step in deep appreciation. Why? Because to really appreciate your life and your environment right now, where you stand, is to fully embody living. Only by this conscious act of paying attention, of being present, do we notice the beauty and miracle that exists around us. You or I might be standing at the bus stop and notice that the blue awning on the shop across the street is our favorite shade of alpine blue. We might be the person in anonymous green scrubs laying out sterile instruments in the hospital operating room who suddenly grasps how much we love this dedicated, focused supportive teamwork, the mission of the work we do. Or perhaps, like I did yesterday sitting in my tax accountant's office, experience an overwhelming sense of gratitude people of all interests (and thankfully great talent with numbers) walk this earth. The light is reflected back from the bowl.
But back to the assignment. If you can, spend three to five minutes looking at something in depth today. It can be a chair, a milk carton, your fingernail. Look from the outermost to the innermost level of detail you can, taking the object in. Let the largesse of the object as well as the details form a sense of knowing in your mind. That you comprehend and are curious about this object, appreciate it to the fullest degree. Now write about it, or draw. A quick paragraph or sketch, nothing formal just a splurge of expression - all art is at its core a translation. What we take from this exercise is an awareness of how we translate life. All the time. In our work, our love, our complaints and observations. As Burghild Holzer put it, quiet attention is like a prayer. We are part of a constant renewal that is there just for the looking.
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