[How Working Women in Their 40s Create Space (6)] - Raising Your Gaze Unravels Your Thoughts
○ Introduction
On my way to work, when I suddenly raised my gaze—the leaves on the trees had turned a fresh, vibrant green before I knew it.
As I traced the ridgeline of the distant mountains with my eyes, the schedule for the day that had occupied my mind until just a moment ago slipped away.
What floated up in its place was the thought, 'I should go on a trip to somewhere with a beautiful view before summer.'
I was just looking into the distance.
○ Realizing My Gaze Is Always Downward
Looking back, I realize that most of the time during my commute, my gaze is directed at my smartphone, my feet, or the back of the person in front of me.
It is the same when I am sitting at my desk. From screen to screen, from task to task. My gaze is generally at or below eye level, and my field of vision keeps narrowing.
That is necessary to some extent. Focusing also means narrowing your field of vision. But if you stay that way for too long, your thoughts also contract into the 'near, present, and task-oriented'—that is the feeling I get.
○ Looking into the Distance
Speaking visually, when you look into the distance, the muscles that focus your eyes (the ciliary muscles) relax. Just as staring at things up close for a long time causes eye strain, looking into the distance has the opposite effect. You could even call it a reset for your eyes.
But more than that, what I feel is a 'recovery of scale.'
When I trace the ridgeline of the mountains with my eyes, when I notice the vastness of the sky—the things I am carrying throughout the day become slightly relativized. The impatience and the feeling of being stuck loosen up just a little. And my thoughts naturally begin to reach a little further ahead, a little further away.
I think that is why the plan for a trip came to mind. It wasn't that I 'tried to think' about it; it was a change that happened simply because I raised my gaze.
○ Small Gaps in Daily Life
There are already several gaps in our daily lives.
While waiting for the train on the platform, instead of looking at my smartphone, I look at the sky beyond the platform.
While waiting at a traffic light, I watch the leaves of tall trees swaying in the wind.
From the office window, I cast my eyes not at the building in the foreground, but at the ridgeline or the hazy distant view beyond it.
During my lunch break, I go outside for a bit and look up at the sky.
None of these take even a minute. But that one minute can sometimes change the scale of your thoughts.
Just by raising your gaze, your mood might loosen up—perhaps.