Look Up

Last week my partner and I spent an evening walking our dogs on Piedmont Avenue. We walked from Energy Matters to MacArthur Ave and back up, window-gazing and deciding what to order for take-out dinner.  

I stayed outside with the dogs while Susannah ordered. I leaned against the building and felt the urge to pull my phone out because that’s what we do nowadays when we have a few minutes to wait.

I stopped myself and instead looked around, enjoying the sights and sounds.

And then I looked up – wow! The sky was putting on an amazing show of puffy clouds backlit golden by rays of the setting sun. As I watched the clouds turned from gold to bright pink to cotton candy pink and then a dramatic chiaroscuro (I’ve never used that word – how fun! and had to look up how to spell it:). It was a beautiful, inspiring, expansive 10-minute show.

Years ago, I had a neck injury that was caused in part by the fact that I spend most of my time looking down: working, reading, cooking, computer work, looking at my phone, etc. This is true for most of us, except arborists, house painters, bird watchers, and a few others.

My chiropractor suggested that each time I walk into a room, whether at home or work, I first look up to the ceiling as a way of varying my neck posture.

It’s a good practice, but I’d forgotten about it.

As I gazed at the sky watching the cloud show, I thought of the many benefits of looking up:

• You never know what you will see. Beauty and inspiration lie above, not just in front of us.

• It’s good for your posture, counteracting the effects of so much time spent looking down.

• It’s good for your eyes. Much of modern life is spent looking up close, but your eyes are designed for both far-gazing as well as near-gazing, and those little near-gazing muscles need a break here and there.

• Insight follows sight, and the insights of the far gaze are different than the near gaze. Looking up to the sky invites expansive insights and big-picture inspiration.

Next time you find yourself waiting, look up.

Sight/Insight.
Kirstin Lindquist