Tag: awareness

Posted in Life

Gratitude and awareness: a wonderful pairing

Posted on by William Douthwaite

In a recent newsletter I read, “Noticing sparks gratitude; gratitude sharpens our noticing.” (It might have been Rob Walker’s “The Art of Noticing,” but I haven’t yet found it in my emails.)

I spend a lot of time noticing things on my daily dog walks. Sometimes I count how many houses have a Ring doorbell. Or interesting items at the curb on trash day. I like to whistle back and forth with the birds at dawn. I’m annoyed when I notice newspapers sitting in driveways for weeks.

I have many reasons to be thankful. I’m healthy and can take long walks with the dogs. I live in a safe neighborhood, know a lot of my neighbors, and live where it’s easy to be outside just about every day.

So the cycle of noticing and gratitude resonates with me. When I am tuned in to what’s going on around me, I find new reasons to be thankful. Once I start giving thanks, I begin noticing more things around me I’m thankful for. It’s a good upward spiral that develops both my gratitude and my awareness.

One morning, I notice beautiful colors in the eastern dawn sky. I whisper, “Thank you,” for an amazing sight, for the coolness, and the quiet of the morning. As I see the morning approach, tall pines escape the darkness, and I am thankful that there are still a few lots without houses.

Then I notice how many new houses there are in our neighborhood. I remember building our house decades ago, when these roads were lined with wooded lots. I’m so thankful we were able to build a house where we raised our children.

That’s how it works. Observation directs your mind towards the positive things in your life, spawning gratitude. As you ponder your blessings, you notice more good things around you. Again and again and again.

It’s such a cool concept. I try to initiate the cycle every time I’m out walking, starting with thanks or observation. Give it a try.

Posted in dogs, Life

He never saw it coming

Posted on by William Douthwaite

On a recent walk with my Great Dane, I shocked a young man back to reality.

Our two mile loop isn’t far from the community’s middle school, and on this day we were walking right around afternoon dismissal time.

I would guess the young man was in 7th grade, weighed down with a substantial backpack, head buried in his cell phone. As we closed the gap, I shook the leash to jingle her Dane bling, her large metal prong walking collar. He didn’t look up, absorbed in digital conversation.

We stopped, waiting for him to pass by, but he didn’t notice us until he was one foot in front of us. But then he did notice and jumped a foot up and back when he saw the beast staring at eye level, tail whipping back and forth, excited to greet a new friend. He was terrified, nervous, and shouted, “Whoa, I didn’t see you!”

It’s hard not to notice that 115 lb. of dog from 50 feet away. Whatever was on my phone would have to be amazingly absorbing to isolate me from every other reality surrounding me.

When he jumped, I couldn’t help laughing out loud. Sometimes we really worry about who’s watching us and what they think about us. Guess what? They aren’t watching you, they’re not thinking about you, and they don’t even know you’re there.

Not until they come nose to nose with that nose!

Posted in noticing, Travel

I should have been paying attention

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“Why am I taking this exit?”

It was too late to change my mind. I was already on the interstate exit ramp. But it was the wrong exit. I wasn’t going to a grandson’s baseball or soccer game. I was on the way to church, two more exits down the road.

It wasn’t a huge deal. I had plenty of time. And my alternate route only took five extra minutes. But why did my autopilot malfunction? I’ve been to these two places so many times I don’t even think about it. I just go. Maybe it was because we had just been to two games in the past week. Maybe I got distracted by conversation with my wife and the two boys in the van with us. Who knows?

I’m usually paying attention to where I’m going. I’m aware of my surroundings and what’s going around me. I hear the weather on the radio, catch the silly chattering of grandkids in the back, and pay attention to every little noise the van makes. I don’t know if I’ve ever gotten so absorbed in work or a project that I lost track of time.

My detour reminded me of a story from some friends in Iowa. They were on their way to some city west of Des Moines on I-80. They chatted about all kinds of things, making the drive seem short. Then they noticed a sign “Omaha – 10 miles.” I know, it doesn’t seem possible, but they drove about one hundred miles too far that day. That’s losing track of time!

How many things do I do each day without thinking about them? I can brush my teeth, tie my shoes, and sign my name without a thought. I can ride a bike, catch a ball, play guitar chords, and eat a donut without engaging my mind. It’s fascinating that my body just knows what to do.

So I remind myself to pay attention. I don’t to be that guy in the middle of the grocery store aisle, oblivious to other shoppers. Or the person ahead of you at the intersection, unaware that the light has turned green. (Although I confess that I have been that guy.) Or the worshiper who says the Lord’s Prayer or the Apostles Creed while thinking about what you want to eat for lunch. (Been there; done that.)

Posted in Life

Who’s watching?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

rob-sarmiento-85394Who’s watching me? I’m not paranoid. I really don’t mind people watching me. I just started thinking about all ways I’m being watched and I don’t even realize it.

Like all those security cameras in the stores. Maybe some are just recording. But some must have someone actually watching the feed.

What about the people in their homes who watch me through their window as I walk by with my dog? I always look up when they walk by my home. I’ll bet they glance at me, too.

I hope people are watching me from their cars. I want them to miss me rather than hit me if I’m crossing the street.

How about the people slowly driving through the neighborhood. I don’t always recognize the car. Are they watching to see when I’m home? And when I’m not?

There’s a lizard on the porch who watches me very carefully. If I take one step too close, he’s gone.

Then there’s my dog who watches me when I’m eating. Just in case a scrap falls to the floor. Or I save a piece of something for him.

I know that someone digitally watches me when I browse products online. Ads for those very items immediately pop up when I use other applications.

The waiter or waitress at the restaurant watches me. To see if I’m ready to order, need a refill or dessert, or need the check.

Facebook stalkers. They look at everything I post and every picture I’m in. But I never know it. They never post themselves. They may not even be friends. But they are watching.

Some of the cars following me have sensors that watch me. If I stop, they make sure that car stops too, avoiding a rear-end collision.

There is always someone monitoring the self-checkout lane at Home Depot. I hardly notice them, but I know they are paying attention to me.

I am often surprised by the invisible voice who calls out, “Welcome to the store!”

It could be the other people you are having lunch with. They are watching closely to see if I’ll reach for the check.

I like to watch people. And I’ll be they like to watch me.

Who’s watching you?