Extraordinary moments– they capture our interest and we tend to spotlight them long after they’ve passed. Consider how often we speak about the funny story someone shared at work rather than the hello exchanged in the elevator. Or how often we take a picture of the famous statue instead of the flower along the walking path. Or how often we look up at the neon sign instead of down at our shadow. We seem to notice the bold elements of our daily journeys.
I’m not suggesting that noticing one thing is better than noticing another. But after I read The Listening Walk by Paul Showers this past weekend, I couldn’t help but wonder how much of the ordinary we overlook each day. What might spotlighting the ordinary as well as the extraordinary add to our lives?
Showers first published The Listening Walk in 1961. But even after 50 years, the story speaks about walking meditation/mindfulness in a manner children can understand. The story is narrated by a little girl who discusses her silent walks with her dog and father, recounting the variety of sounds she hears along the way. She calls them Listening Walks.
With this read, I realized it’s easy to miss what’s right in front, beside, behind, above and below us when moving through a day. There’s a lot of physical stuff and activity in this world. Our senses are taking in and processing much each moment. But I notice trends…and lately it seems that we highlight that which isn’t the norm.
Kids, though, notice and have a magical curiosity about the ordinary. (Especially if we don’t distract them or encourage them to place their attention in one particular direction.) They glance to see the plane they hear flying overhead…that we’ve tuned out because we’ve heard it so many times. They imitate the siren of the firetruck racing down the street, watch a squirrel climb up and down the tree, spot a dandelion, pick it up and then marvel at their newfound flower, chase fireflies, point out the “octagon” they see at every street corner, and play with their shadow on the sidewalk. The things we seem to have stopped noticing captivate them. And they talk about them! With enthusiasm!
We haven’t lost that magical curiosity or ability to notice though. I think they’re just shoved aside by our belief we need to pay attention to certain things to move efficiently through our days. Then all too often we have limited time and so showy, bright or loud things capture our attention.
But I question this approach if I want to be mindful doing everyday things like walking, taking care of errands, sitting outside, etc.
I am a pedestrian. I am blessed to spend a lot of time out of doors hearing, seeing and feeling the world around me each day. But my walks can fall into two categories:
- a walk in which I’m thinking about where I’m going and how I’m getting there
- a walk in which I’m noticing as I’m going, knowing in the back of my mind that I don’t need to think the whole way to my destination. I can just take in the everyday things I see, hear, smell, and feel.
The latter are my sensory walks. Sometimes I start out with the intention of noticing. Other times a walk morphs into a sensory walk. In either case, I still get where I’m going, but along the way I’ve noticed the ordinariness of the route. I’ve noticed the heat that is coming off a brick wall as I walk nearby. I’ve noticed the rustle of leaves underfoot as I walk on a trail and the birds overhead seemingly fighting about something. I’ve heard the cling of tags on a dog’s collar as he passes by with his owner. I’ve noticed the pattern the sun and flower trellis cast on the sidewalk and how that looks like a miniature hopscotch grid.
These aren’t the things I call home about, but they feel no less extraordinary despite being categorically ordinary. They are the bits that make a walk less about getting from one place to another and more about a journey. I don’t feel overstimulated, even though I take in more of the world. I feel engaged in the day instead of moving through it. There’s always a sense of ease after the sensory walks. I feel awake.
The little girl in Showers’ story encourages us all to pause and just listen and acknowledge the world unfolding. She’s pointing out a way to help us all be more present. I appreciate her reminder to sometimes exchange making noise for experiencing larger doses of taking in the world. Perhaps we can bring Showers’ story to life in 2013 by silently asking ourselves: How many ordinary things can we notice today?
I recommend this book for grades K-5th.
Themes: nature, walking meditation, listening
Themes for Yoga Teachers: mindfulness, meditation, nature, listening, living in the moment
