I Am Not A Photographer

I’ve been musing a lot lately.  About life.  The future.  Where I’ve been.  Where I’m going.

The wedding photography workshop I attended two weeks ago led me into a place of deep reflection.  Reflections on the past and the future.  Who I am and who I want to be.  Perhaps the musing has been a bit self-indulgent. I can acknowledge that. Still, I am thankful for the process.  The ongoing process of searching and discovering.  I’m not sure that this was the intention of the workshop I attended, but leave it to me to come home from a photography workshop searching for the meaning of life.

(Kidding. Sort of.)

I suspect that some of these thoughts will roll out into this space in the coming weeks and months. Right now, I’m still unscrambling.  Tearing apart the web of thoughts that has become my brain. Searching.  Discovering.  Remembering.

Oddly enough, this week my aunt text me asking for a picture of my Mom.  Of course, the first place I look is the blog.  Looking back through the years in search of this picture was timely, given the recent themes running through my head. Looking through the after effects of losing my Mom and the process of finding the beauty that rose out of those ashes was like walking through history that feels oddly current. One afternoon Chad and I were sitting in the kitchen where he had joined me in searching past years of the blog.  In the process, he read these words aloud,

What is that, I asked him?
A blog post, he told me.  You wrote it on March 12, 2012–it’s called I Am Not A Photographer. 
I was speechless for a bit.

The difference four years can make.

I’ve thought about those words Chad read all week.  It was just a few minutes ago that I went to look at that post myself.  I smiled (or smirked) at myself as I scrolled down that March 12, 2012 post and see how little I knew about photography then–how little I knew about the kind of photographer I wanted to be.  In fact, I debated even posting a link to that old post, embarrassed about the things I used to try.

But why would I leave that out?  The past is a part of my story.

Looking back is as important as looking forward.  Looking back is why I began writing here in the first place.

Several months ago I was looking in my Dad’s attic trying to find hidden Christmas presents looking for something and I came across various photo albums I’d made for my parents in my younger years.  I opened them up and, page after page, I found pictures surrounded by words that I’d written telling simple stories.  I smiled as I flipped through the memories of long ago.  I read the words and watched the progression of time in the pictures as I experienced stories from the past unfold.

Later I told Chad what I’d found and laughed, I’ve been blogging my whole life, I just didn’t know it. 

Little did I know that my love for the marriage of words and pictures began long before the birth of Running Chatter.

If only I’d known then what I know now.

I say that a lot.  After having gone to college and earned a degree in Nutrition.  And then going back to school getting another degree in Counseling.  All the while ignoring the accumulated albums filled with pictures and words, journals filled with words, and dreaming about my camera at night–I ignored the signs.  I ignored that thing that made my heart come alive.

I have zero regrets about the road that brought me to the place I am today.  Instead, I hope that I carry a little more wisdom to pass to my little ones one day as they attempt the pave the road ahead of them.  In the days ahead, I hope that my own winding journey might give them hope and understanding that everything doesn’t have to be figured out today.  Instead, it’s the journey from Point A to Point B that matters.

The journey is always more important.

Four short years ago I wrote the words, I am not a Photographer.  On that day, I certainly had no idea all the steps that would happen between Point A and Point B.  If I’m being absolutely honest, I still have a difficult time saying it–I’m a Photographer.

One thing that I don’t struggle saying, though?  I love what I get to do.  I love how I get to spend my time.  I love capturing stories.  Telling stories.  Seeing stories.  Somehow, my camera gave me a better view of the world and I am so thankful that the winding road brought me here.

Four years from now I hope I look back at February 2016 with the thought, look how far we’ve come. And as much as I love looking forward to that day, I will be thankful for the days we are living today. The big moments and the little ones.

The good and the not so good. . .

The ordinary days that, when I look back, feel absolutely extraordinary. . .

I was reminded this week that dreaming does matter.  Saying it out loud matters.  Trusting the stirrings of the heart matters.  And for me, looking back matters as much as looking forward. Four years ago I wasn’t a Photographer.

Today, my Point B, has brought me here.

I can’t wait to see where Point C takes me.

No matter what, you can bet that I’ll be here recording it.

******

Happy Weekend, Friends.