Have you ever walked into a room, and suddenly realized you haven’t really seen it in years? Of course, you know what pictures are hanging on the walls. You know the view outside the window. But knowing something is there isn’t the same as noticing it.
Recently, I had one of those moments in my own home. I was sitting at the dining room table feeling overwhelmed and exhausted.
I had been staring at my computer for far too long. Finally, I closed it and sat quietly for a few minutes. Instead of immediately reaching for my phone or moving on to the next task… I looked around.
As I looked around the room, my eyes landed on a sign hanging above my stove. It says, “Hey, good looking’… whatcha got cooking’?” I smiled because I suddenly remembered why I bought it.
When Brian and I were dating, the Hank Williams song “Hey, Good Lookin’” was playing on the radio. There’s a line in the song that says, “I’m free and ready, so we can go steady. How’s about saving all your time for me?” While that part of the song was playing, Brian asked me to be exclusive. It was sweet and playful, and it became one of those small moments in our relationship that I never wanted to forget. Years later, when I saw the sign, I bought it, because it reminded me of that time in our lives and the beginning of our story together.
The funny thing is that the sign has been hanging above my stove for years. I walk past it every day. I cook underneath it. I probably look in its direction several times a day. Yet somewhere along the way, I stopped really seeing it. The sign hadn’t changed. The memory hadn’t disappeared. The meaning was still there. It had simply become familiar.
Did you know our brains are designed to become less responsive to things we experience repeatedly? Psychologists call this habituation. It’s why you may notice the ticking of a clock when you first enter a room, then stop hearing it a few minutes later. It’s why the smell of your own home disappears to you, even though a visitor notices it immediately. Your brain decides what deserves your attention, and what can safely fade into the background. This ability is useful. We couldn’t function if we consciously processed every sound, object and sensation around us all day long.
Our minds must filter out some of the constant information, so we can focus on what seems new, urgent or important. But there is a cost. Sometimes the things that fade into the background are the very things that once brought us the most joy.
Think about your own home.
Maybe there’s a photograph you once couldn’t walk past without smiling. A souvenir from a trip you never wanted to end. Maybe it’s the view from your kitchen window, the sound of your dog greeting you at the door, or the person sleeping beside you every night. The extraordinary has a funny way of becoming ordinary when we experience it every day.
When we first fell in love, we noticed all the little things our partners do for us without being asked. But over time, familiarity can quietly change what gets our attention. Now we notice the towel left on the floor, more quickly the coffee poured for us in the morning. We notice what annoys us, because it interrupts the familiar, while what is consistently good becomes part of the scenery. That doesn’t necessarily mean we’re ungrateful. It means we’re human.
But once we understand what’s happening, we can interrupt it! This month, instead of asking only, “What am I grateful for?” ask yourself a different question: “What have I stopped noticing?” Look around your home and really see the things you pass every day. Think about why they’re there. Remember the stories behind them. Notice the comfort, beauty and memories you may have stopped appreciating, simply because they have become familiar. Then do the same thing with the people in your life. What would suddenly feel incredibly significant if they weren’t there tomorrow?
Sometimes we assume we need something new to feel grateful again… a new experience, a new spark or a new reason to appreciate our lives. Maybe we don’t.
Maybe the things we’re searching for haven’t disappeared. Maybe they’re still right in front of us, waiting to be seen again.
So today, pause before you rush past the familiar. Look a little longer. Thank someone for the thing they do so often it has become invisible. Because the people and blessings you keep overlooking may not be ordinary at all. You may simply have been standing too close to notice how truly extraordinary they are.