Sitting by a sunny window, what do I notice? Cold hands warming. Clogged gut digesting, settling, moving, grumbling. One nostril breathing. Slight pressure in my forehead brimming. Mucus dripping to the back of the throat. Swallowing. Hot tea heating first my mouth, and then the route to my stomach. Upper cheek tension. Body relaxing. Right ankle stretching. Head swimming; almost always swimming, struggling to keep afloat amidst the waves of clashing thoughts crashing.
Noticing. Not judging, not naming, just noticing.
The space seems emptier when I just notice. Thoughts given no credence tend to dissolve into meaninglessness, and all that’s left is this: a series of sensations, no more.
Every perception is a judgment. Every judgment a thought that takes me from this attempting to make it that. People will tell you that it is wrong to judge, but that is a judgment too. All I have found is that judgment disturbs my peace, and I enjoy my peace. Go ahead, judge if you want to. And when you do, just notice.