I just got back from a week in Canada, where I spent time hiking, canoeing, and generally hanging out.  On one hike amongst a grove of maple trees and evergreens, all of us were doing our best to be silent, in tune with the forest, and soaking in the stillness all around us.  I found myself drinking in the sight of old, immense maples, taken – as I always am – by the beauty of their leaves, branches, and wide trunks.  The green, with sunlight filtering through the leaves, the insects buzzing about, and the blue sky overhead all touched me with their presence.  I felt connected and in tune with my surroundings.  Or, so I thought.

At one point, an observant, truly in tune person, asked if a high branch on one of the very old maples had a growth on it.  We turned to look and discovered that a very large porcupine, lounging in the branches way above our heads, had been watching us for the whole time we were in the area.  What amazed me was that this presence was right there, out in the open to see, and only one of us took the time to look *all* the way around the environment, including straight up.  The person who had the sense to look up talked about a friend who is even more in tune with nature, and who almost always notices animals that would remain hidden from the rest of us.

For the rest of the trip, I expanded my curiosity and practiced taking in more of my environment.  I have no idea what I missed, but I enjoyed the practice of reaching out farther with my awareness.  And, the experience of the porcupine got me to thinking about how much there is around us that we don’t register, even when we think we’re being consciously present to a person, a situation, or an environment.   When we’ve chosen to live a more mindful life, we take steps in the direction of being aware of more of what’s around us.  And, as this trip so beautifully reminded me, there is always more to encompass in the practice of being present.

And so, for this week’s experiment, I invite you to expand your mindfulness practice of taking in more of your environment.  For example, notice what happens if you engage a conversation with an even greater intention to understand the other person’s point of view and notice what you discover if you are more tuned into their nonverbal experience than you might normally be.  Or, take a look around your yard, or the space outside where you live, and notice what happens if you look at it as if you were a stranger, seeing it for the first time.  What do you notice as a first-time visitor to that view that you’ve learned to overlook because of familiarity?  Or, you might play with asking yourself, “Is there anything more I need to bring into awareness at this time?” when you’re out in nature, or with people, or engaged in some activity.  I know that the person on the hike had been asking herself if there were any animals in the vicinity when she got the urge to look up.  She had expanded her curiosity in a way that allowed her deeper, non-conscious or intuitive, awareness to communicate with her more clearly.

As with all the experiments, there’s no right way to do this one.  This is just one more opportunity to play with awareness and mindful living, and to notice things you might otherwise overlook.  The key here is to recognize that there will *always* be something we’ve overlooked, and to enjoy playing with expanding awareness to encompass something you hadn’t noticed before.  And, as was true with the porcupine, to give yourself an opportunity to be delighted with what you discover.