Vision

It’s nearly 5 o’clock in the afternoon.  I rarely blog in the afternoon.  Typically, I wait until little ones are tucked in their beds and the sounds of tiny feet pitter-pattering on the floor have silenced.  It is far easier to think when it’s quiet.   The house is quiet right now, though.  I am blessed to have Wednesday’s to focus on my work while my in-laws
take care of our kids for the day.  It is a luxury for which I am so
thankful.  I try to pack my Wednesday’s full with as much as I can in
the way of studying, editing, planning, organizing, blah, blah, blah for
SummerK.  When I’m not careful, though, the quiet lures me into my head. 

I just returned home from a humid afternoon run.  The blazing sun was high in the sky and sweat poured down my face almost as soon as I stepped outside.  I rarely run in the afternoon.  It is usually the first thing I do in the morning before the I needs, I wants, and can I’s? begin.  But this morning, I skipped my run.  The I needs, I musts, and the I have to’s screaming from my own brain far surpassed the normal chatter from our three toe heads.  So, rather than lacing up my shoes, I got to work on a few tasks that were waiting for me.  (That was my first mistake.) 

My afternoon run cleared my head.  I needed my head cleared.  You see, walking into the field of photography has been a challenging one.  Walking into an industry that is inundated with people, ideas, creativity, and thoughts sometimes overwhelms me.  Not to mention the constant competition and the unspoken idea that quality is equal to number of Facebook likes. (Blech.) I begin to do that comparing thing.  That thing that says I wish I had this experience and that experience under my belt.  Doubt creeps in.  Insecurity sneaks in.  For a moment I consider putting my therapist hat back on. 

That’s when I go on a run.

On my run I pondered words spoken by my dear friend, Steffany.  We were texting back and forth about something completely unrelated and she said this. . . I’m trying to let go of the ‘vision’ and just let the ‘vision’ create itself.  Steffany’s words struck a chord in me.  The reminder that we can’t plan all the details.  What’s important is to embrace the journey.  Embrace the now.  I loved her words.  You see, I’m in a month long class right now that is focusing on my photography business.  I find myself getting lost and wondering, who am I supposed to be?  But I find that when I’m trying to figure out who I’m supposed to be, I lose sight of who I am. 

As the sun beat down on me and the sound of my feet hit the pavement, I thought back to the previous evening.  I had asked Chanelle to join me out back for a moment so I could take a quick picture for my 365-Project.  She is so willing to help me and I was happy when I snapped my picture for the prompt ‘old’.

I expected that she would hand the camera back to me and quickly run back inside, but she didn’t.  Instead, Chanelle did what Chanelle so naturally does. . . she radiated joy throughout our entire backyard. 

It starts with a smile. . .

And then silliness. . .

And then complete and utter joy. . .

For the next 30 minutes I stood back and just watched my little girl run and jump and then run back to me and say, can I see that one??!!  How high was I that time?  Let’s do it again!

Unscripted.  Unplanned.  Utterly beautiful.

As I ran the final mile of my run I felt my pace increase and my heart become lighter.  A good run and time to think did what it always does for me–it provided perspective.  What I love about this. . . what I first fell in love with about photography is capturing life as it happens.  Celebrating today.  Enjoying the now.  These moments. . . my favorite moments?  They don’t have to be created.  They just are. 

And suddenly, things feel simple again.  Like Steffany said today, I’ve got to let go of the vision and let the vision create itself.  I’ll get there. . . wherever ‘there’ is.  But for now?  I want to be right here.  There are lessons to be learned.  There are experiences to go through.  There are teachable moments around every bend.  That’s life, right? 

It may not always be what I expect. . .

. . . but these ordinary moments are about as beautiful as they get.

It’s late  now.  The pitter-patter returned home hours ago and have made their way to bed.  I’m headed that way now, too.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  I’m a work in progress.  I’m not there and certainly, I doubt that I will ever get ‘there’.  For now, I am so thankful for this space to process through it all. 

It’s hardest to love the ordinary things, she said, but you get lots of opportunities to practice.Story People