Ways of Seeing
by Kisha Hughes
During the lockdown phase of the pandemic, I was privileged to work from home, which gave me the opportunity to pay attention to my natural rhythms and patterns. I had the space to experience the full spectrum of my emotions without worrying that a coworker might hear me cry in the bathroom or wonder why I was lying on the floor in the middle of the day. Like a lot of us during that time, I felt as if I were walking in place with little choice but to pay attention to things I had neglected to notice. While I struggled to read anything longer than an article about why I shouldn’t wash my groceries before putting them away, I found keeping a writing habit essential to my survival. In a journal entry from that year I wrote, “Writing has been hard. I haven’t wanted to deal with my feelings, but the feelings came anyway.” I recognized that if I didn’t process my emotions, if I didn’t see what was happening and roll it around in my hands, that I was still going to have to cope but with less clarity. Writing offered me a way of seeing in a moment that felt completely unknowable.
During this time, I took daily walks to get fresh air and to generally remind myself that the world was still there. I didn’t pay much attention at first, except to make sure that I didn’t get lost on my way back home. One day, I noticed the electric green grass and little purple flowers with orangey-yellow centers dotted my neighbors’ lawns. The wind blew lazily, whispering between the spindly tree branches covered in reddish-brown buds. Birds and squirrels chirped and chattered all around me. The bright, warm yellow sunlight felt like a kiss on the forehead. It was the most beautiful spring I could remember seeing, maybe ever. Had I sleepwalked through other springs? After that walk, I found myself bringing more awareness to what was going on around me. I noticed when my neighbors planted new flowers or changed the color of their mulch. I spent that time seeing things I had not had the opportunity or awareness to see before. Seeing begins with awareness. Awareness begins with attention. When you bring attention to something exactly as it is in the moment, that something can come alive; it becomes infused with being!
Seeing does not always begin with the eyes. It can begin with the nose detecting the smell of burning wood or the hands testing the firmness of a tomato. It can begin with the tongue tasting the last sip of coffee or it can begin with hearing the sound or feeling a vibration of a garbage truck rolling down an alley. When I bring my attention to what is around me, it allows me to zoom in so that I can zoom out almost at the same time. When I bring myself into awareness, I allow my mind and my senses to take in more, I allow myself to remember more, not just through sight but through touch, smell, hearing and sometimes tasting. In these moments, I am not physically writing but I am allowing myself to fully chew, swallow and digest the world around me. When I sit down to write and I am searching for a word or a feeling or a moment, those images and words come into my mind. Sometimes you have to call for them and sometimes they just come.
I want to invite you into an exercise of awareness. This is something you can do while sitting, standing, walking, or lying down. Take a breath in through your nose and exhale through your nose. What temperatures do you notice in your nostrils as you inhale and exhale? Do you notice any sounds or vibrations nearby or far away? Bring your hands to your heart or your belly. What do you notice about what happens to the belly as you inhale? When you exhale, what do you notice? Draw your awareness into your feet. When you bring your full attention to your feet, what sensations do you feel? Do the feet feel tingly or awake? If you would like to take that exploration further, scan your body from your feet to the crown of your head, bringing your full awareness to each body part: the knees, thighs, pelvis, hips, back of the body, front of the body, the arms, the neck and the face. What else becomes alive in you when you bring your awareness into yourself and what is around you?
Kisha (she/her), is a Richmond writer, storycrafter and space holder. She strives to create environments to explore authenticity on the page and on the mat. Kisha graduated from James Madison University with a B.A. in English/Creative Writing and she is a certified 500 hour yoga teacher. You can find her at www.kishahughes.com.