What Happens When We Start to Notice?

Apparently, I’m a sigher.

Not a quiet, delicate little sigh, either.

Mine tends to come out as one big, quick, heavy puff of air. The kind that, if you happen to be standing next to me, could easily sound like, Good Lord, what now?

The funny thing is, most of the time I’m not annoyed at all.

For years, I didn't even realize I was doing it.

Then recently, a friend pointed it out. She wasn't criticizing me. In fact, she told me she does the exact same thing.

And that made me curious.

I started to notice.

I noticed that the sigh often comes when I'm mentally overwhelmed, moving too quickly or carrying a lot at once. It feels almost as though my body recognizes that I need a reset before my brain catches up.

So I decided to experiment with something ridiculously small.

I didn't try to stop sighing.

I just changed the sigh.

For the past couple of weeks, when I feel one coming, instead of letting out that quick, forceful puff of air, I've been intentionally slowing it down.

A deeper breath.

A longer exhale.

No rushing it.

And I've been surprised by what I've noticed.

My body seems to respond differently. Instead of the sigh being something that escapes from me, the breath becomes a moment I actually experience.

And sometimes that one slower breath reminds me that everything else doesn't have to happen quite so quickly, either.

I can slow down.

I can be still for a second.

I can notice how my body is feeling.

I can ask myself whether the pace I'm keeping is actually the pace I want to be keeping.

And that's where this tiny experiment with my breath has become about something much bigger.

What else am I not noticing?

How often am I moving so quickly that I don't recognize what my body is telling me?

How often am I reacting before I've taken a second to understand what I'm actually feeling?

How often am I looking outside myself for an answer when I haven't gotten quiet enough to hear what I already know?

I'm beginning to realize that noticing creates a little bit of space between what happens and what I do next.

And inside that space, I have choices.

I can choose the slower breath.

I can choose patience instead of immediately reacting.

I can choose stillness when my instinct is to keep pushing.

I can choose to get curious about what I'm feeling instead of judging myself for feeling it.

I'm even noticing other changes alongside this practice. I feel more at ease. I'm finding little pockets of peace more often. Even some psoriasis flare-ups I've been dealing with seem calmer lately. I can't say what's responsible for that, but I'm paying attention to all of it.

Because that's really what this is becoming for me:

A practice of paying attention.

Noticing my breath.

Noticing my pace.

Noticing my body.

Noticing my reactions.

Noticing what gives me energy and what takes it away.

Noticing when I'm present and when I'm already five steps ahead of myself.

And maybe most importantly, noticing what I already know.

Coaching has played a big role in this for me, both through my own training and through working with my coach. I'm learning that I don't always need someone else to hand me the answer.

Sometimes I need someone to help me see what's already there.

That's a pretty profound shift.

Because we're surrounded by messages telling us what we need to add: another routine, another book, another productivity hack, another parenting strategy, another way to improve ourselves.

I'm becoming more interested in a different question:

What if, before adding something else, I simply noticed what's already happening?

There was nothing revolutionary about changing my sigh.

It was a tiny shift.

Same breath.
Same body.
Same person.

Just a little more awareness and a little more intention.

And yet that tiny change has begun to affect the way I'm moving through my days.

This is only the beginning of my own practice of noticing. I want to become more curious about the small signals I've been missing because I've been moving too fast to see them.

And maybe you do, too.

So here's something to try today:

Notice one thing.

Don't fix it.

Don't judge it.

Don't immediately Google what it means or make a seven-step plan to change it.

Just notice.

Your breathing.

The way your shoulders feel when you're stressed.

How quickly you answer when your child asks you something.

What happens in your body when someone frustrates you.

The moment you feel yourself rushing.

The thought that keeps showing up.

Notice it.

Then get curious.

Because sometimes the shift we're looking for isn't nearly as far away as we think.

Sometimes it begins with simply paying attention.