The Art of Noticing
Living in Tune With the Smallest Moments
We spend much of our lives chasing the big things, the goals, plans, milestones and changes. Yet the texture of life is mostly made of small moments, the ones that slip through if we are moving too fast.
The art of noticing is a way of turning toward those moments. It is a gentle practice of paying attention without an agenda, of letting yourself be touched by what is already here.
The Attention We Were Born With
As children, this came naturally. A shiny beetle crossing the pavement, the pattern of light on the ceiling, the smell of rain on warm earth, we took them in without thinking about it.
Over time, we learned to move quickly to keep pace with busyness. The habit of lingering faded.
To notice now is an act of remembering, not of striving. It asks nothing more than a softening and a willingness to let the present moment arrive.
A Pause That Changes the Quality of Time
Noticing is less about what we are looking at and more about the way we are with it.
It might be the quiet between two sentences, the warmth of a cup in your palms, the way a shadow moves across the wall.
In that pause, the mind loosens its grip. Life becomes more vivid, sharper and softer all at once.
Flow Without Force
In Daoist philosophy, there is an idea called wu wei. It is often described as “effortless action,” but that phrase can be misleading if we imagine it means doing nothing.
Wu wei is about moving in harmony with what is, with no pushing and no forcing. Like drifting with the current instead of swimming upstream.
When we notice without trying to control or shape the experience, we step into that current. Life unfolds and we are simply there to receive it.
Why This Matters
Attention is a form of nourishment.
When we notice something simple, such as the sound of a kookaburra, the loosening of our shoulders after a breath, or the sweetness of ripe fruit, we signal to our body that it is safe to land here.
We also weave threads of connection:
With ourselves, by sensing our needs before they shout.
With others, by truly seeing and hearing them.
With the earth, by observing its constant and subtle shifts.
Presence enriches life not by adding more, but by allowing us to actually have what is already here.
How It Looks in Daily Life
The practice is not lofty, it is lived in the smallest acts.
Making tea without distraction, letting the steam curl in the air before taking a sip.
Walking without a destination, simply to feel the path under your feet and hear the breeze in the leaves.
Standing at the window to watch light change across the landscape, letting that be enough.
This is wu wei in the everyday, receiving life as it comes.
Seasons as Invitations
The seasons offer their own cues for slowing and sensing:
Summer: the heaviness of heat, cicadas humming in the distance, warm air on skin.
Autumn: crisp mornings, the glow of late light, the scent of woodsmoke.
Winter: the hush before sunrise, hands wrapped around something warm, the steady patter of rain.
Spring: jasmine on the breeze, fresh green growth, sunlight after weeks of cloud.
Each season holds doorways into presence if we pause long enough to step through.
A Practice Without Pressure
The art of noticing does not require a schedule or reminders. It works best without force.
It is as simple as loosening your pace, letting your gaze soften, and allowing something to meet you.
At first, these moments may feel rare, like catching a firefly. Over time, you realise they have been there all along, waiting to be seen.
A Different Way of Living
To live this way is not to withdraw from life but to lean into it more fully.
It may feel slower, yet somehow richer and more spacious. Productivity is still possible, but it is rooted in attunement rather than rush.
In the end, the art of noticing is simply the art of living.
I have recorded a practice where I take you through the felt experience of noticing and being. You will be guided to use your senses, your breath, and into a gentle yin yoga pose as a moment of cultivation of stillness, anchored in presence. Access the video here.
