The Practice of Noticing

When I was younger, I was quite confused about spiritual practices. The practices most commonly recommended weren’t very helpful to me or simply didn’t work with the reality of my life. I was left wondering what was wrong with my faith and my life. After a while, I learned there are many different spiritual practices. My problem then was that I couldn’t figure out which one was the correct one. For a long time I thought God had a preferred way for us to pray and grow in faith. I struggled to discover God’s preferred way.

Finally I realized that spiritual practices are simply pathways and aids that help us connect with God. There are not only one or two correct spiritual practices. God is more flexible than that. What works for one person, may not be helpful to another because each one of us is unique. What works at one time in my life may not work for my entire life as my life changes.

In spite of all my intentional seeking, I accidentally stumbled into the practice of noticing. It’s really quite simple. Every morning, well most mornings, I sit and notice. When the weather is good I sit outside. When it’s not good I sit inside. I sit and I look at my backyard.

It’s not a spectacular backyard. It’s a city lot with grass and flowers. I live in a neighborhood around people who have barking dogs and kids and noisy mufflers. They mow their yard. They have loud phone conversations I would rather not overhear. It’s not what most would consider a beautiful, contemplative experience. But it is where I live.

I sit and I look at what’s in my yard. The birds, the chipmunks, the squirrels. I notice which flowers are blooming. I look at the sky and notice the clouds. I look at the trees. I now have a favorite tree. Part of this practice is not having an agenda other than to notice. I think whatever I think. I notice whatever I notice.

Sometimes my practice of noticing only results in the creation of a to do list or remembering I need to get an oil change. But also, I think about the patience it takes to grow flowers. I remember that their growth is only partially my doing. I look at the trees and ponder their shapes. I watch the bunnies grow up. I see the squirrels scurry around. Often this grows into gratitude for what I see. I am grateful for the yard and my home. I am thankful for the opportunity to care for it- house and yard. Sometimes as I sit, the answer to a problem comes. Or an insight shows up. But that isn’t an expectation. Somedays I am better at noticing than others. That’s alright also.

The practice of noticing doesn’t come naturally to me. Our society has encouraged me to be task and results oriented. It has taken a bit of effort for me to recognize that sitting and noticing has value in and of itself. A friend reminds me that we are human beings, not human doings. This is a hard concept for me. I find great comfort in “doing”.

The practice of noticing helps me rest and be present in the ordinary, daily holiness of God and my little patch of the world. It reminds me that God is not far off, but is also here in my very ordinary back yard.