The art of observation

Can be a blessing and a curse to those who wield them. And if you are lucky, it would be more of a blessing. But sometimes even blessings can feel like a curse.

Being the first to observe something while everyone else has sets of eyes only going in one direction can be like setting foot on a ground that has never been warmed. “With great power comes great responsibility,” which I assume is like taking on the task of a 100 men as an ordinary human. And may I tell you it is not easy to be human or ordinary.

Trying to tune out this delicate art to lessen the burden does make one become ordinarily normal. And one with such arts says to themselves, “I bet I can tune out what I see like the rest of the world and be normal.” I can decide to ignore the lady running after the bus that’s about to take off. Pay no heed to the man running madly towards the elevator I am in. Set my eyes ahead, passing by the child who needs help crossing the street. And by ignoring all these people, I have inevitably made myself obscure as well. 

Well, that would sure take away the task of 100 men and make you normal as you have always wanted to be, until you are standing on the other side of the door. You become the person running towards the bus, wishing someone would tell the bus driver to wait so you can get on. The person running madly towards an elevator, hoping it stays open just for a little longer. The little girl trying to cross the road, but everyone has eyes set forward. Even you forget to see yourself. So now you have become ordinarily normal, as you wanted, but without the human.

Photo from Magnific on Google.

The art of observation can also be applied to the things around us. There are a lot of them all around at this moment. Just like the fluttering of a butterfly, the squirrel moving up and down a tree with nuts (wonder if it is for family? Who knows), the bee and wasps hopping from one flower to another, the shadow cast by trees beaten by the sun, the cloudless blue sky, the sound of the wind reaching for the swaying trees, the size of a rain droplet resting on the tip of a slender grass, the last leaf fall from a tree made shadeless by the cold. There are a lot!

Sometimes it helps to stop and name at least 10 things you notice around you. This helps you stay in touch with your environment and also harness the art of observation, which everyone has inside them but is dimmed by the ways of the normal. And right now as I am typing this first draft I notice the buzzing of my operating system to my endless typing, the clacking of keys as I strike them, the dryer tumbling the cloths, cars zooming by, the giddy train passing by, my stomach growling patiently, an unsolved Rubik's cube, a table filled with bits of unrelated things, the soft lub and gnarly dub of heartbeat, and the keen interest of my readers. Who said observation can’t be abstract? I can see the love you have for yourself in every universe. 

There you have it, with great power comes even greater responsibilities, and dare I add, I wish I had such pow

er. Because then I could actually notice how I could be of help to the people around me. 

So, in a world where everyone seeks to be seen, I hope you see yourself in the beauty and stillness of everything around you.