Good Morning Sunshine!
What assumption am I making, That I’m not aware I’m making, That gives me what I see? The Art of Possibility – Rosamund Stone Zander and Benjamin Zander
I’ve appreciated this question (and the book it comes from) for more than 20 years. I remembered the quote a bit differently: What am I believing, that I don’t know I’m believing, that gives me what I see? Yet, another take emerged as I engaged the muse this morning:
What am I observing, That I’m not aware I’m observing, That gives me what I see?
We take in billions of data points, perhaps even more, each day. As I sat looking to the woods out back this was my visual observation: dawn breaking bringing light; pine trees, close and distant; stumps of dead trees; fallen branches; rocks, pine needles and twigs on the ground; cacti and grasses in the sandy open area.
All that and more paints a picture that is beauty to these eyes of mine. The addition of gentle bird song (the ravens have yet to wake), the sound of Cottonwood Creek’s spring flow in the distance, and the sensory stillness of the morning air bring harmony and peace to the fore in this simple act of observing.
Too often in our rush through life we miss these moments, not giving ourselves the gift of slowing down to observe what surrounds us, much less allow it to permeate our being in ways that support us, sustain us, call forth and maintain our health and well-being.
Rather we put our attention on that which needs to be changed, corrected, fixed, improved: the dishes in the sink, the firewood to be stacked, the deck that needs refinishing, plants ready to move outdoors … Our lists go on (and on). Maintaining life is a constant. Self-observation offers a pivot point that can lift us up or drag us down as we engage in our ‘darn dailies’ and in the midst of humanity’s greater chaos (a colleague calls it ‘debris’ and most days that feels all too accurate).
Observation with awareness, taking time to ask the question ‘what am I observing, that I’m not aware I’m observing, that gives me what I see?’ brings us to valuable points of choice.
Blessed to live in these woods with rugged mountain peaks above and a vast valley verdant from late spring rains below I could simply ‘see’ them every day to the point of not seeing, not acknowledging all that the beauty has to offer. I aim to make a different choice. What am I observing that I don’t know I’m observing that gives me what I see? Some days I observe a vast seen and unseen network of nature operating and cooperating in and of its design. Other days, I see beauty. Every day I feel harmony, happiness, peace.
Taking in what is outside of me prompts internal observation aimed at understanding or at least coming to terms with events in life. Observing myself in events gives meaning and adds to my knowledge. It opens doorways of possibility and choices of perspective.
Feeling let down after an appointment earlier in the week, I put my attention on just such self- observation and reflection. Observing my disappointment had me be present to my (sometimes unrealistic) expectations of others. Further observation opened me to the territory of recognizing all that I know and sense, giving me a strong dose of self-trust.
The simple act of choosing to hear and heed the call of a question in my feeling of being let down gave me the kind of gift of awareness that comes when I deeply observe these mountains, woods, indeed, any part of the landscape that I am a part of.
Deep inside I sense that is why we are here – not to tackle the ‘to do’ list, walk the dog, or even to right what we see as the world’s wrongs or write the next solve-it-all ‘self-help’ book or best-selling novel. Rather whatever events and tasks are ours to do are for our benefit, our learning, our growth, giving us knowledge and wisdom to carry beyond this life, into the next, and beyond. What could be more purposeful than that? And what would the world look like if we each carried that perspective into everything we do – from the dishes, to our activism, to our work in the world?
Dog’s Eye View of the Landscape