What We Notice Matters

Tea and blossom *.

It has been a while since I wrote here, but a thought has been quietly gathering over recent weeks, and I wanted to share some ideas again. It is not a grand return, just a tiny reflection that feels timely.

I have been thinking a lot about where we place our attention. Not in a lofty or philosophical sense, but in the everyday, practical sense: what we dwell on, what we carry around, and how it shapes the atmosphere we bring into a room.

Last week, I spent far too long doomscrolling. You know the sort of day; you suddenly realise you have absorbed three hours of bad news, political noise, warnings of collapse, opinion pieces dressed up as facts, and comments from people who are always angry about something. So when I arrived at an event that evening, I was not in the headspace I would have liked. Naturally, I started talking about the very things I had been reading. It was not helpful, not particularly interesting, and indeed, it was not the energy I wanted to bring into that space. I caught myself halfway through and was slightly annoyed and disappointed with my behaviour.

It made me realise just how easily we absorb what we consume. We do not just read it and forget it; we carry it around. It clings quietly to us and before we know it, it starts affecting our words, mood, and tone of presence. But then I began wondering about the opposite: what happens when we turn our attention to gentler, steadier, and more grounded things? Not in a forced, Pollyanna, ‘everything-is-fine’ sort of way, but simply by choosing to notice small lovely things: the blossom on a tree that is just beginning to open, the sound of a kettle coming to the boil, the weight of a book in your hand, or the way a bee or a butterfly or a worm appears just when you think they are gone forever. These things do not make the world less complex. But they do make it more bearable, and perhaps they bring something of value into the spaces we share with others.

We all carry something invisible with us. And whether we intend to or not, we bring it into every conversation, every room, every quiet encounter at the till or in a queue. If we carry chaos, even a little, it is felt. Therefore, the same must be true if we carry stillness.

We cannot fix the world in a day, and no one lives in a bubble. But we can choose what we dwell on, what we give our focus to, what we carry with us, and what we unintentionally offer to others. And that feels worth paying attention to.

I would love to know what you have been noticing lately. What brings you back to your centre and helps you hold your perspective when the noise is loud? Feel free to share in the comments.

* ai image generated from my own visual references and composition.