Did you ever look out of the window when you were a child, wondering what mysteries were hiding behind the glass?
As a child, I loved looking through windows, imagining, playing “what if” games, or simply observing the world go by.
Using my imagination played a central role in keeping me entertained during the long, harsh and grey Polish winters.
Some of the windows stayed with me.
My grandmother’s living room window looked onto a courtyard where children played. There was no playground, just dust and dirt, but that didn’t stop anyone. From that window, we could also see the back of the pastry shop and, of course, keep an eye on the neighbourhood. My granny sat on a chair while I sat on the windowsill. I absolutely loved the time we spent together: we talked, sat in silence and it was all perfectly perfect.
My parents’ kitchen window looked towards the nursery I attended, which I hated with all the hate a child could muster.
Then there were tram windows. Travelling from one end of Wrocław to the other, often with my grandfather, I loved watching the architecture change in front of my eyes, even though I didn’t really know what architecture really was. I just liked observing the changing landscape.
Very rarely trains and buses as I didn’t go out of the city as a child that much.
Looking out of the window made me curious, helped my imagination grow and taught me to ask questions. I still use imagination, curiosity and questions in my academic and creative work.
However, a lot has changed since I was a child, and I’m sad to admit that I hardly ever look out of the window nowadays with curiosity and wonder. Work, life, devices and the ongoing clatter in my brain are to blame.
Recently, while travelling on the Overground, I intentionally started looking out of the window.
And I wondered: what if, instead of spending another ten minutes on my phone, I simply looked out of the window?
Do I really need those extra ten minutes on my phone? What would happen if I devoted them to playful, childlike reflection and observation?
From my kitchen window, I can see our car park and the trees planted around it, which at this time of year are changing colour daily. There’s a bird feeder, which is always busy. In the distance, I can see tall, mighty cranes being used to build new unaffordable flats. And, of course, I can see the clouds, which are used to constant change and motion.
What if those ten minutes of looking out of the window with absolute delight became ten minutes that changed something? What if they created enough breathing space to nurture creativity, feed your imagination and play a few “what if” games again?
I loved windows as a child because they offered magical possibilities to me.
As an adult, I know that feeding creativity and imagination isn’t as easy as it was when I was a child. But feeding your creative mind and curiosity is worth putting the phone down, looking up and asking:
What if…?
Autumn Creative Prompt
Today I’d like to offer a very simple creative prompt.
Look out of a window, wherever you are, for 5–10 minutes without interruption.
What do you see?
What do you notice?
What do you feel?
How do you feel?
If you feel the urge to write about the experience in your journal, please do. Or use another creative medium to reflect on it.
You can also simply have the experience without recording it at all.
Maybe not everything we do, make or create needs words. Sometimes the experience itself is enough.
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