Notice and Wonder

Robert Krulwich, of Radiolab fame, is starting a new blog at NPR. So, first, NEW ROBERT KRULWICH BLOG! My enthusiasm is palpable. I just tossed up a handful of confetti.

Second, there's some really juicy bits in the first entry about the focus of the blog and its content. I'll just let Krulwich speak.

I like the word "wonder." It seems to me that near the heart of wonder is the simple act of noticing. I plan to pause, look, and notice the little wonders that catch my eye. Because there are a lot of people who do this very well. I'm going to follow the better noticers, the great field scientists, the best artists, photographers, journalists and peer over their shoulders to notice what they have noticed.

Biologist (and writer) Bernd Heinrich in his book "A Year In The Maine Woods" points out that because we humans are biggish creatures and so much around us is small and delicate (or shy), because we are busy and very into our lives, our minds, our problems, "most of us are like sleepwalkers here." We walk through our yards, our streets, our parks, through our days and "we notice so little. We see only bits and pieces, and then only if we look very, very close, or for very, very long."

Did you notice that? Yep, I just tossed up another handful of confetti.

So, wondering and noticing are tightly woven together. This reminds me of an interview the AIGA ran a couple years ago with Steve Portigal and Dan Soltzberg about the benefits of noticing.

It is ironic, people don't notice that noticing is important! Or that they're already doing it. It's kind of like breathing we're not usually that aware of it. It's much easier to recognize more outbound activities like brainstorming, testing, designing, refining. But noticing is just as important it's really where everything begins.

There's a funny Zen saying about that: "Don't just do something, sit there." It's a reminder to let yourself take things in as well as output them. Inputting is hard. Reading Krulwich's observations and reading the conversation between Portigal and Soltzberg infers that a couple things might be necessary, quiet (or a slower pace), and a willingness to intently focus on the things outside of yourself. Good noticing is selfless.

So how do we build up our noticing skills and spidey senses? Portigal has an idea for that too.

Circulate through an environment and note everything you observe, but using only one sense. First, observe from a distance, say, from on high so you can't hear what people are saying. Then sit in the middle of an active zone, but close your eyes. You may notice how rapidly one sense fills in for the other. Noticing is tough, yet rewarding work, and it begs to be documented.

We've more tools than ever to do so. I walk everywhere with a phone camera in my pocket, and I suspect you do too, so documenting visuals is easy. I can type on my phone, so I can capture text or overheard conversations.

I can record video if necessary. And then I can dump it to a Twitter account or a Tumblr blog to catalog everything. And if it's any good, maybe the noticing starts to arrange into larger patterns or if there gets to be a lot of documentation. I could maybe even print up a book of all the things I had noticed.

And wouldn't that be a nice thing to have on the bookshelf? My Year of Noticing and Wondering 2010.

As a person constantly in a position to produce works of communication or ideas, or whatever it may be, it feels good to give myself permission to kick back and inquisitively absorb things as they come. Part of noticing isn't seeking, it's highly reliant on serendipity and unexpected relevancy.

People are always surprised when they realize how many things they are actually experiencing but not really noticing. And it's such a simple activity.