The art of noticing.

Yesterday was such a Monday.  It was really just a combination of the fact that I'd been gone over the weekend on my annual trip with the girls and it was afterall, Monday.  The beginning and end of the day went all-right but the middle was something else!  

Hence the reason for the title, the "art" of noticing.  These pictures today are from a very happy, adventurous morning on the farm with my girls.  We really noticed this day.  Nothing else was that special or different about it, our eyes and feet and hands and souls just all decided to join hands and notice.  I wonder how we might have shown up to notice the beauty of a Monday, yesterday?

It's a fairy-tale, a deceptive tall tale, to believe that there is a better, more exciting story happening just out of reach from yours.  I've had that feeling many times. The plot thickens in my own day and Mr. Main Character sneaks into my thoughts, trying to whisper bits and pieces of the story up ahead that is just surely SO much more exciting than the four loads of laundry I just folded.

Friends, I've learned this crafty voice is Satan at his best.  There IS no better story happening down the way.  The best one is right under our noses.

My favorite way to tap into the art of noticing is to go old school, using the five senses rule. 

As I simply weave questions like "What does this honeysuckle taste like?" or "How do these leaves feel?" into our walks outdoors the girls are immediately hooked.  It's not long before I hear they're voices calling out "Mom, come look at this!" 

We could do well to learn from our kiddos.  The little ones are so in tune with the small details of life.  I can't even count how many times my girls have said, in the most sing-song voice, "These are for you!!" with a bouquet of wildflowers in hand.  Doesn't matter that they've done it a hundred times before, each time is fresh and new to them.  Each delight just as grand as the one before it. 

The last few weeks I've admittedly, changed my pace a bit.  I've focused on my health and slowing down.  I've made art for pure fun.  I've made lists in my art journal (I'll show you tomorrow!) of the good, rich stuff of life....like the coo of a mourning dove, the soft sound of rain, the laughs that wrinkle your nose, or an early morning campsite. This is a different type of living for me.  Sure, "the rosy in the routine" is kinda my thing. But there's a difference in having a tagline and running like mad the whole rest of the time, just to prove the concept of your own line.  Does that make sense?

There is an art to noticing.  The most joyous, interesting, soulful people I can think of show up to notice.  Notice the beauty tucked in among the laundry, the way the light filters on top of the dirty dishes in the sink, the artful way a crayon looks left on the floor, the steam on a cup of morning coffee.  That's where I find God, see God, hear God, worship God.  In those seemingly ordinary moments. It's where my best memories are made with my girls, where love runs even sweeter and deeper with Brett.  

What will you notice today? 

How will you document it so that the fast pace of your day doesn't sweep the beauty under the rug? 

I'd love to hear.