The Quiet Art of Noticing: How Small Moments Contribute To Good Mental Health, Shape Creativity, And Influence The Way We Move Through the World

Claire
29 minutes ago
5 min read

We live in a time when everything seems designed to pull our attention away from ourselves. Notifications, schedules, expectations, noise, just so much noise! It all crowds the edges of our days. It becomes easy to move through life in a state of low-level haste, even when we’re not rushing anywhere in particular.

Without meaning to, we stop paying attention. We stop noticing. Not because we don’t care, but because we’re overstimulated and ungrounded.

Noticing the little things sounds almost too simple, almost pointless, but it has become one of the most grounding practices in my life, and the foundation of my creativity.

And it didn’t start with a grand intention. It started with a moment so small that I almost missed it.

The First Shift: When Attention Became a Lifeline

For a long time, I didn’t realise how much I’d drifted away from myself. Life had grown busy in that slippery, gradual way: work, marriage, children, responsibilities. The things that once lit me up quietly moved out of sight. Art, especially, became something I used to do.

I’m not sure I made a conscious decision to stop being creative; it just didn’t fit easily into the shape of my life anymore.

Then one afternoon during COVID, when the world felt strangely suspended and stripped of all its usual movement, I picked up a little watercolour set from my son’s bedroom. It was nothing special, the sort of set children are given and forget about, but something about the colours, the neat little pans, the promise of a blank page drew me in.

I asked my son, “Shall we do some painting?”

We sat together, dipping brushes into water, mixing colours without any plan. The world outside felt heavy and uncertain, but this moment was quiet, contained. A pause inside the chaos.

I didn’t know it then, but that tiny act of attention, the first true moment of presence in a long time, was the beginning of something much bigger.

Noticing as a Way Back to Myself

The next day, I painted again. And again. And soon I realised I was beginning to see things differently.

When I looked at the garden, I saw not just a plant, but the gentle bend of a stem. Not just morning light, but the way it softened the room before anyone woke up. Not just a cup of tea, but the swirl of steam rising like a miniature weather system.

These were details I had hurried past for years. Noticing them wasn’t magical. It was grounding.

And grounding was exactly what I needed.

Noticing is a simple act, but it interrupts the mind’s habit of spiralling into everything at once. It forces stillness. It reintroduces clarity. It reminds you, quietly, that not everything needs to be solved or improved, some things simply need to be seen.

Over time, I realised this practice was doing more than helping me see the world. It was supporting my mental health in a way that felt natural and sustainable.

The Link Between Noticing and a healthful mind

We often think of mental health support in terms of big interventions or structured practices: journaling, therapy, meditation, exercise. And while those things are valuable, there’s something deeply powerful about micro-moments of awareness.

When I pay attention to something small, the movement of shadow, the texture of bark, the way a colour shifts across paper, my thoughts slow down and I feel more peaceful.

It doesn’t fix everything. It doesn’t erase stress. But it softens the edges of my day.

Noticing reminds me that I don’t have to live entirely in my head. It puts my feet back on the ground.

And in that grounded place, creativity begins to unfold.

Me, being creative!

Creativity Doesn’t Start on the Page - It Starts with Attention

People often think creativity begins with a grand idea, or with inspiration, or with a moment of brilliance. But for me, creativity begins long before the paper and the paint. It begins with noticing.

A shift in colour. A texture on a branch. A fleeting glimpse of a wild animal. A small, steady detail that most people walk past.

These moments act like quiet invitations. They pull me into the present and ask me to look closer. Creativity grows from that closeness, from the willingness to observe something fully before trying to interpret it.

When I paint, I try to create something that feels natural and grounded. Nothing too perfect but a fair representation of the little things I have noticed in nature. Things that have given me pleasure and I hope will give others pleasure too.

However, the surprising truth is this: Being creative improves my mental health not because of the outcome, but because of the attention it requires.

Creativity forces me to be present. Noticing gives me something to be present with. Together, they create a kind of steadying effect that nothing else quite replicates.

The Accumulation of Small Moments

Noticing the little things doesn’t change the structure of your life, the responsibilities, the noise, the pace, but it changes the texture of your days. It makes ordinary moments feel anchored. It creates pockets of calm that stack quietly, invisibly, until suddenly you realise you feel more grounded.

It’s not dramatic. It’s not loud. It’s not a lifestyle overhaul.

It’s a practice. A gentler way of being. A way to move through the world without losing yourself in the rush.

Noticing is a reminder that life is not only happening in the big milestones. It’s happening in the tiny, fleeting details we only see when we’re paying attention.

Creativity, mental steadiness, and presence all begin in these little places.

Small things aren’t small if you’re really looking.

And the act of looking, truly looking, might be one of the quietest, most powerful tools we have for living well and being creative.