The art of noticing

Finding peace and connection in life's ordinary moments and unexpected places

It’s easy to find peace of mind in a yoga studio, or lying in one’s bed listening to relaxing music. These moments make us forget, even briefly, that life goes on, as the earth keeps rotating around its axis and the sun, whether we can see it or not.

It’s easy to feel spiritual when surrounded by people who understand you, where there’s no need to explain yourself. Brief slices of time in the day or week that allow us to reconnect with the universe or our roots (are they mutually exclusive?) before we return to the meagre civilisation we have become.

It’s easy to feel in harmony with oneself when listening to a great music album, lying in bed with headphones on and worries switched off. Nothing else matters when I listen to John Frusciante's or Ichiko Aoba’s albums. The world seems to stop.

Where do you feel most at peace or spiritual? Could it be a church? A forest? A subway carriage? Waiting in line at a grocery store?

I feel at peace in all these settings, but the experience is undeniably different.

Finding spirituality while standing in a subway carriage may seem counterintuitive, but it depends on the perspective we choose to take.

Personally I strongly dislike subways, much prefer busses or trains. Reason stemming from the discomfort of being so far underground, in a place that smells of iron and dust, surrounded by noise and ringing. Despite my dislike, sometimes it’s necessary to use them. In those moments, I try to walk in with good intentions. That may sound ridiculous, how could good intentions matter here?

I see the subway as a place where people are vulnerable. It’s one of those spaces where we can witness raw emotions: exhaustion, frustration, contentment. As if I were a ghost, I enjoy watching the lives of commuters merge for just a few minutes (or perhaps thirty) in this cramped little space.

Strangers, all of the same race (human) who refuse to communicate.

As I listen to my playlists and keep my phone safely zipped in my pocket, I watch.

A young woman, maybe my age, is having an enjoyable text conversation with someone.

Two brothers and their father are on a family trip, visiting the oh-so-famous British capital. I accidentally gave them the stink eye…not intentionally, but as part of a bad habit I learned to carry the journey undisturbed. One of the brothers takes out his camera and snaps a photo of the subway track. He saw beauty and art in something residents view as monotonous and drudgerous. As I look down, my eyes catch his cross-body bag: Studio Ghibli. I smile and wait to catch his eyes so I can compliment it. As an ex-drawer of moving things (animator), I am a big fan of the studio’s movies.

Two young men are trying to chat over the deafening sound of the rails. Maybe they are shouting about intimate topics that might typically be whispered after a few drinks, but it couldn’t wait, and the underground drowns out all other sounds anyway.

So many are on their phones, watching videos, changing songs incessantly, scrolling and scrolling. All this to avoid looking each other in the eye and realizing we are not alone, sometimes humans want to feel alone. All this to avoid the dreaded feeling of being “bored”.

I notice the noise starting to bother me, so I take a few deep breaths and close my eyes, trying to find peace once more.

Later, waiting in line to pay for my items at the grocery store, I look at all the items around. Too much choice, yet I always leave with the same thing: Poilâne bread. I probably did not have time to make my own loaf the previous day. The person in front of me has purchased a bouquet of flowers. I wonder if they’re for a special occasion. They are beautiful. I don’t realise it’s my turn to pay.

She didn’t say anything unusual as I was paying for my loaf of bread.

“Do you want a bag?” she asks. She looks at my phone screen long enough for me to notice. It displays the song currently playing: John Frusciante’s Ramparts. I want to ask her if she likes his music but am not prepared for a conversation, especially small talk. It’s 9 a.m., and though I’ve been awake for four hours after my yoga session, my ability to speak is no better than when I first woke up. So I just smile. Her hair was bleached and it suited her.

When was the last time you truly paused to observe the world around you?

What small and ordinary moments bring you a sense of peace?

Thank you for reading :)