The Art of Slow Looking
Hayagriva Mandala, 1996, sand with mineral pigments (Denver Art Museum)
Imagine being given an assignment in school of looking at piece of art for three hours straight. For Jennifer Roberts, an art historian and professor at Harvard, this is one of the first assignments she gives. Students are asked to choose a work of art and stare at it for 3 hours in a practice called slow looking. What does it have to do with Buddhism? More than you’d think!
Art is a way for us to learn the Buddhist teachings, but it goes beyond that. Slow looking is a form of meditation and mindfulness. Even the making of the art can be a Buddhist practice. With this in mind, I headed to the Denver Art Museum (DAM) to do a little slow looking at a Tibetan Buddhist mandala. I have seen the mandala before but not for a three-hour stretch. Before I get into my observations, let’s talk about mandalas.
A mandala is a complex representation of the universe, with different parts of the universe representing different aspects of the Buddhist teachings. Mandalas can be made from many different mediums. The one I viewed was a sand mandala. Traditionally, a sand mandala is dismantled after it has been completed. This practice serves as a reminder of the impermanence of all things. The DAM received special permission from the abbot of Seraje Monastery in southern India to preserve the mandala created by three of the resident monks. I’m so grateful too because it’s absolutely amazing! So, what did I notice during my three-hour slow looking adventure?
First, three hours is a long time! I’ve done this before and it always feels like an eternity when you start out with slow looking, but stick with it because the tediousness, discomfort, and restlessness eventually gave way to the true benefit of slow looking, and the benefits are worth it!
One of the best benefits is just appreciation. Somehow these tiny grains of sand conveyed a vast meaning that left me in awe. When looking from farther away I saw the complete piece, the unity, the flow, the beauty. Up close, I could see the intricacy of each little grain of sand, each playing a role in the magnificent work of art. Every color, every element, every figure was carefully and thoughtfully designed to convey a certain message or meaning. The sand had to be placed with extreme care. It is truly a masterpiece that I didn’t appreciate on such a deep level before.
As I continued to look at the piece, I felt like I was becoming a part of it, or it was a part of me. It was walking around inside the mandala. I had completely lost track of time, and the meditative aspect of slow looking was in full swing before I knew it. As my eyes roamed the mandala, my mind went to the Buddhist teachings associated with the work – not just the symbols in the piece, but the message of impermanence too. Being mindful of our actions, words, what we communicating to the world. The mandala had to be done slowly – the creation of the piece had to be slow and thoughtful. While I’m not well-versed in the symbolism of Tibetan Buddhism, there was still meaning, understanding, and messages pouring from the mandala. Stories I had learned long ago came flowing back, like the conch shell fearlessly proclaimed the truth of the dharma - Buddha’s own voice calling out. I felt a connection to the monks, to the teachings, to the ritual, and to sangha. It was quite amazing to think of the full journey of the teachings from Shakyamuni Buddha’s time to that very moment. It felt like there was a oneness in the mandala including me as the viewer. It was an extraordinary realization of interconnectedness. When you think of slow looking at sand for three hours, it doesn’t sound fun and exciting but there is this awe and wonder. It was a truly amazing feeling! I had a lovely three-hour meditation and gained valuable insight into myself and the Buddhist teachings.
Maybe art isn’t your thing though. Perhaps the 3-hour slow look is a hard no for you. I understand, and I offer this as an alternative: Try “slow-looking” throughout your daily routine. I gave this a try as well. As I went through my day, I noticed how I did things – getting ready for the day, cleaning the kitchen, running errands. My focus was on observing myself moving about – if I was in a hurry and rushing, or taking my time, moving slowly and thoughtfully. For myself, it’s usually the former – always busy doing without stopping! I decided to slow down and apply some of those slow looking concepts to my day. It was eye opening!
Slowing down made mundane tasks more meaningful. When I took time to savor my morning coffee, I noticed rich aromas and flavors often missed. Running errands, I appreciated the blossoming trees and gentle breeze, turning my errand into a moment of appreciating nature. By slowing down, I found joy in the present, feeling more connected to the world and attuned to my own actions, thoughts, and emotions. I now remind myself to embrace everyday beauty by slowing down. What was most surprising is I managed to get everything I needed to done. The slowing down, didn’t interfere with my timeline, but rather made me more efficient in that it energized me, allowing me to get more done. Give it a try and you too might discover a new appreciation for the little details around you.
