As a child, I used to notice all kinds of things. I was often fascinated by the patterns of rugs or tiled floors. I noticed when the screws in a piece of furniture were different styles — meaning someone had repaired it at some point. I remember focusing in on a tiny detail of the illustration on my mother’s cookie tin sewing kit, letting my imagination run wild about just why that little child whose face appeared so forlornly in the window of the stagecoach was being whisked away, alone.
Like most of us, as I grew up, I learned that these kinds of details didn’t “matter,” and so I learned to ignore them. They did not help me directly achieve whatever it is that modern society values, nor what (I thought) I wanted to achieve. It was better, I thought, to focus on my studies and my work, squeezing every ounce of “productivity” out of every day, hour, and minute. This approach helped me achieve some degree of “success,” but in the process, I lost most of my sense of wonder and amazement, and with it, some of my creativity and passion for life.
As I’ve started rediscovering my inner child, I’ve been looking for ways to focus on the here and now, to remain accepting of where I’m at, in the present moment, and notice what’s actually going on around me. In other words, ways to be mindful. Meditation is certainly one practice that helps immensely with this, but it’s not the only one. I’ve written before about tracking as a means to build awareness, about the importance of snatching spare moments to practice mindfulness instead of busying the mind with checking your phone, and even about using your left hand instead of your right to force you into the now. Here’s another practice I’ve recently started, inspired by remembering my inner child and what it was like to care about all those little details. The technique is in some ways similar to the childhood game of “I Spy,” in which each player in turn finds something they can see but others may not, and announces, “I spy, with my little eye, something that starts with the letter…”
My version of “I Spy” is a solo game that I simply call “On Notice,” and it works like this:
- The game is played by simply trying to notice and count details of your environment that you haven’t noticed before. The color of paint, a chip in the wall, the pattern of roots around a tree, the number of hinges on a door — anything counts, so it’s “easy” to get a high score, especially when you first start playing. It becomes especially gratifying when you are in environments where you spend a lot of time — like walking down a familiar hallway at work, or in your bedroom. You’ll be amazed at your ability to still be able to find new details, even in these well known places.
- If you want to drop in to the present moment habitually, it’s best to link playing “On Notice” with a trigger action that you do frequently during the day. I use walking as a trigger — any time I’m walking someplace alone, I remember to play the game. I walk a lot during the course of the day, so using it as a trigger works well for me. If you don’t do much walking, you can try other triggers, like the act of sitting down or standing up, stretching, going to the restroom, or anything else you do frequently.
- Use all of your senses, not just sight. Hearing, smelling, feeling (temperature, pressure, wind, humidity) — they all contribute to the makeup of where you are right now.
Playing “On Notice” puts you back into a childlike mindset, increases your wonder, and gives you a renewed passion for life. It opens up your mind to discovering new things, and creates a space for creativity to play a role in whatever you are doing. It brings you into the here and now, and forces you to experience where you are at, instead of losing yourself in your thoughts.
More importantly, “On Notice” is lots of fun and often brings a smile to your face. Just this morning, I was approaching a snail attempting to cross the sidewalk, and as my shadow crossed over it, it recoiled back into its shell. For some reason, I got a good laugh out of that — maybe it was the way it looked liked a person when it recoiled, a lot like when someone touches a hot surface unknowingly. I also heard a bird calling that I’d never heard before (wish I could have pinpointed it visually), and smelled some spring flowers I most likely would have ignored if I wasn’t in noticing mode. My little game of “On Notice” during my morning walk set a positive tone, and I’ve carried a smile on my face for nearly the whole day.
Are you ready to put your inner child “On Notice”?