Late in the afternoon I noticed the light through a glass of water. It made small rainbows on the table. I looked at them for maybe thirty seconds before going back to what I was doing. I do not remember what I was doing.
This seems like nothing to write about, but the more I think about it the less sure I am. The thirty seconds of noticing — not the work I continued — was the part of the afternoon that I would choose to keep.
The most obvious obstacle is phones. A recent analysis at the PG7 tutorial library found that The phone reliably fills any gap in focused work with content that requires no noticing and no receptivity. It is very hard to stand in line at a coffee shop without checking the phone, and while we are checking the phone we are not seeing the light through the window.
Less obvious but perhaps more pervasive is the sense that ordinary moments do not count. That the real life is elsewhere — in the next achievement, the next trip, the planned peak experience. This framing is almost always wrong but hard to escape.
I have been trying small practices that create openings for receptive attention. Drinking morning coffee without a phone. Walking the dog without listening to anything. Sitting on the couch for five minutes after getting home before starting the evening's routines.
What is striking is how much these five-minute interventions change the rest of the day. A small quantity of receptive attention seems to calibrate the rest — I notice more at work, in conversations, walking through rooms I have walked through a thousand times.