honing our observation skills: above and below
a simple little practice to help us turn down the noise, disconnect from the onslaught of input, if only for 10 minutes.
When I lived in Chicago for a short season of my life, I would attend art openings in the Pilsen neighborhood, visiting a gallery and studio and alternative space, one after another, on Second Fridays. It was really great: I saw a lot of great art, and a lot of really bad art, and I met very interesting characters. But it was a LOT.
And what I remember the most about those Second Fridays is needing to step outside the galleries at some point during the evening, to focus on just the sky, or just the sidewalk. My eyes and brain needed a rest. They needed space to settle down.
I think about that sometimes these days, as Americans face so much news, an onslaught of what the hell, and I mean that not as a swear but as a true representation of news of the day, every day. I think about it in my life, with so many things to do and so many changes happening and so many cultural and governmental shifts that I need to understand and take in and assimilate to.
Life is a lot, and sometimes we just need to stare at a seemingly blank space. To lower the input and for just a bit, to find calm. Maybe it’s just me, the urge to just sit and stare at the wall for a while, to let my mind and eyes come to an equilibrium after so much input. But I don’t think so. I think it’s a human response to overwhelm. It’s why staring out at the lake or ocean regardless of whether or not there are waves is so soothing. It’s part of what is wonderful about laying in a dark field looking up at the stars, quiet and reverent.
There is just so much input, and we need a chance to calm the noise.
And I have been needing that a lot lately. I have been needing it so much that I have been intentionally setting myself on a practice to turn off the input, if even for 10 minutes, to let my mind settle.
Part of the practice (surprise! You had no idea, did you?) is recording that experience in my journal. I dial down the input to a blue sky or the dirt beneath my feet. I take a picture. I breathe, in and out, and just stare for 10 minutes. And then I go to my journal after those 10 minutes and write the observances and thoughts during those 10 minutes. What I love about this practice is that you really can do it anywhere. You can stare up at your ceiling in your room. You can lay down in a lawn to look up.
The sky is always above and the ground is always below. Wherever we are, there is respite from the input, from all the noise.
Let’s try it.
Writing and Visual Prompt:
Lay on your back, looking up. Maybe it’s your back yard, maybe it’s a park, or a field out in the country, maybe it’s the middle of the night or first thing in the morning. Wherever it is, just lie down on the earth and look up at the sky.
Set a timer for 10 minutes, no music, no nothing, just you, staring up. Just staring, interrupted only by a moment to take a picture. Then when the timer goes off, sit up, grab your journal, set a 2nd 10 min timer, and write about the experience. What did you notice? See? Hear? Think about? Was it hard or did you find it relaxing? Pick out on or a few selections of those images to a one hour WalGreens photo service (for example) or print out a low-res version on your home printer, and paste those in your journal opposite your writing. Draw a frame around them, doodle and label the images.
Later in the week, or the next day, do the same thing, except looking down. What do you notice, along with your shoes and socks? Where are you standing or sitting? What is the ground beneath your feet? How did it feel to shut off the world around and just look below? Again, print out a photo. Meditate on it while you create a frame of doodles of some sort. Slow down while you contemplate the experience of slowing down.
And then remember, my dear friend, that the sky is always above and the ground is always below.
This week, you could also:
Catch up on Instagram: l’Artesania retreat center, the creative notebook, and me.
Plan a visit to L’Albi
Schedule a creative journaling workshop or plein air session with me
Missed a letter?
Last week:
the creative notebook: honing our observation skills
There is a lot, just so overwhelmingly much, happening in the U.S. government these days. And the problem with all that national politics is that politics affec…
And you can find all the creative notebook entries here.