Have you ever noticed how quickly people can tend to glance at things—art, nature, even the people around us—and move on? What if folks paused for a minute or even longer? Referred to as ‘slow looking’ for centuries, Harvard researcher Shari Tishman helped define slow looking as the practice of taking the time to really see—whether it’s a painting, a tree, or that morning cup of tea.

Instead of rushing past something with a quick look, slow looking means you stop, stay with it, and let yourself really explore what’s in front of you. This kind of focused observation often leads to details you’d completely miss otherwise—like the way light falls on a leaf, or how a brushstroke in a painting seemingly moves.

What’s great is that looking slowly isn’t just for art lovers or museum-goers. You can do it anywhere, anytime. During a walk, maybe pick a “looking” theme such as studying the bark texture of trees. Sit with a photograph and notice the emotions it stirs. You don’t need any special training—just curiosity and some patience.

There are actually two ways to engage in slow looking. One is introspective—asking how what you’re looking at makes you feel, or what memories it brings up. The other is externally—thinking about the context such as who made it or contemplating the backstory. Both approaches deepen your connection to what you see.

Making a habit of being a slow looker comes with some surprising perks. It sharpens your observation skills, boosts your focus and even helps with learning. In schools, it’s being used to teach students how to notice, interpret, and discuss things from different perspectives—great skills for generally any subject. Most of all, slow looking helps us build a personal connection with the world around us. Instead of relying on someone else’s interpretation, we begin to trust our own eyes and thoughts. 

As Vincent van Gogh once wrote to his brother, “Painters understand nature and love it, and teach us to see.” Slow looking gives all of us that chance—not just to see, but to really see. It invites us to pause, to notice the overlooked, to find beauty in the details and meaning in the mundane. In a world driven by speed, the ability to slow down and truly observe is not just a luxury – it becomes a quiet powerful practice. It reconnects us to ourselves, to each other, and to the richness of the world around us. And that, perhaps, is the most valuable vision of all.

Originally published by Orange County Register, May 8, 2025