There was nothing in particular that grabbed my attention there; I was simply looking out the sliding door while waiting for my lunch to cook, as I often do. But when my mother walked into the room to fill a water bottle to water her plants, some subconscious instinct kicked in, making me move my gaze upward and outward.
I normally don’t put much thought to such things, but for some reason, I found myself wondering why I’d suddenly changed the angle at which I was looking. A few seconds later, the microwave beeped, signaling that much food was ready, so I grabbed the plate and started heading back towards the basement (my “office” is in the basement, and I often eat lunch at my desk, provided it’s nothing messy).
As I walked towards the basement stairs, I found myself again looking mostly downwards, instead of forwards, and it suddenly dawned on me that I do this almost *constantly* when I walk, and even when I’m just gazing into space. And, in the second that I realized how often I do this, I also realized exactly *why* I do this.
