Be One Who Climbs Above the Ordinary Dirt and Discovers Wonder and Beauty
Be one
Who climbs above the ordinary dirt
And discovers wonder and beauty
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Posts tagged ‘meditation’
Getting Lost Through the Lens: Like Hitting a “Reset Button” in the Thinking Mind
It can be soothing and humbling to change our perspective.
I’ve been absent from this blog for a few weeks, busy beyond busy with end-of-school-year hustle and bustle. Yesterday was the first chance I’ve had to get out in nature and do some photography. I truly hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.
I’ve been feeling a bit off. Life has been a tad overwhelming of late- busy, hectic, intense. Sometimes I thrive on squirrelly intensity, but the past few weeks have worn me out. My daily meditation hasn’t been the same since it hasn’t been through the lens. So I was quite happy yesterday to “refocus” myself out in nature, camera at the ready.
I didn’t have to look far for a new perspective. As I opened my car door once I arrived at my wild spot, I immediately noticed a sprinkling of dainty purple flowers blooming haphazardly among some grass by the roadside.
They were immensely small- graceful, petite splashes of soft lavender that seemed dwarfed by a simple blade of grass. From a standing position, they were barely noticeable at all. But my photographer’s eye noticed the subtle, shadowy green and purple world hiding beneath a newly leafed young Gambel Oak.
As I stooped down to peek at this miniature ecosystem I was astonished by the change in my perspective. I was in Garden of the Gods Park, known for its massive, towering sandstone formations. Tourists surrounded me, snapping pictures of the mammoth stones and gasping at the fantastic landscape before them. But me, I was stooped down next to my car, observing a tiny realm of diminutive flowers, grass blades with fuzz, and puffs of dandelion all smothered in dancing sunlight filtered theatrically through the soft, new Gambel Oak leaves. My perspective, especially through my macro lens, was that of an ant!
And what a world the ant sees! Does the ant even notice the great stones above? I don’t know, but honestly, the ant wouldn’t need to see them in order to find beauty in its world. For the world of fuzzy grass and purple flowers by the road has a gorgeousness all its own, rivaling any towering things.
So yesterday I spent about twenty minutes crouched on the ground looking at delicate lavender I-don’t-know-what’s. I stared at dandelion puffs, dainty ferns, and the occasional ant, home to this emerald paradise by the roadside.
For twenty minutes I got lost through the macro lens, reveling in sheer delight, in the interplay of color between lavender and green, between sunlight and shadow. My artist’s eye caught the different beauties that lay in the straight, smooth grass and the curvy petals and jagged ferns.
The dandelion puff seemed a complete cosmos unto itself, floating through its own space and time.
Getting lost in these tiny realms is like hitting a “reset button” in my thinking mind. I’m restored and rested. The sensation is much like waking up after a night of intense dreaming. “Real life” then seems somewhat surreal, as the aftertaste of the dream lingers in your consciousness like a powerful flavor.
When you’ve taken a small trip of sorts to another way of seeing and experiencing, your passion for your normal everyday existence takes on a new feel. Upon coming home from a long or faraway vacation, our home often feels a bit foreign at first, as we readjust and regain our bearings.
But what a wonderful feeling it is! Leaving and returning is a refreshing sensation, as it refreshes our perspective, our sense of place, and our sense of being. We fit in in a slightly new way, now. Our experience elsewhere has changed us ever so slightly, and we return to the everyday with fresh eyes and new subtleties of our spirit.
For me, escapes into tiny worlds with a camera are the same.
Oh, how much most of us miss, though! Small islands of wonder right at our feet go unnoticed. The stars in the heavens above us go unnoticed. Our perspective stay so much… the same, most of the time. We take the wonder all around us for granted, and perhaps don’t give it the honor and respect it deserves.
Like my emerald green oasis of purple flowers. Alas, the only other someone who apparently noticed this spot of ground was someone’s dog… who, well, did what dogs do. I wish that instead of seeing this small patch of Earth as a potty, the dog owner had seen what I saw- an oasis of blooming, leafing life- tiny, delicate, shade-draped and serene.
We could all use a reminder now and again of how special each corner of our Earth can be, even a seemingly insignificant, scraggy spot on the side of the road. It has its own special beauty, if you just get down to see it. If the dog owner had noticed the pretty purple petals, perhaps they’d have found another spot for Fido to poop. The bare ground or plain grass would’ve been less disturbed than the fragile flowers!
Popping Up to Say Hello, but Knowing When to Rest: A Life Lesson From Illness and Chickadees
I was on quite a roll for a while, blogging consistently, doing my meditative nature photography and sharing it with whomever was willing to listen. Spring break came along and I took a week off from writing and photography to spend quality time with my kids. I’d just gotten back into the swing of things when life threw a new curve ball at me.
I’ve been proverbially upside-down and hanging by my toes.
(Click on any of my photographs to see an enlarged image.)
Back in February, the first post I’d written based on my book was “Some days upside-down and barely hanging on by our toes, other days perched way up high and on top of the world”. The pictures were of chickadees exemplifying those experiences rather nicely. In that post I recounted how I’d both used meditative nature photography to face a medical issue, and how my daily nature photography finally had been ground to a halt by the illness.
Well, after a nice little run of “on top of the world”, I’ve found myself hanging by my toes again. I’ve done very little photography lately- the pollen count of 11.5 was making that a miserable experience, and too much time braving the wafting particulate monsters apparently lowered my resistance, resulting in me becoming rather ill.
One of the hardest things for me to do since my kids have been born (and they’re now 12 and 15!) has been to allow myself time to rest. They’ve been fairly high maintenance little people (both with truly significant health needs of their own) and there’s never been much time to take any “me time” whatsoever. Moms don’t often get the luxury of “time off” when sick or exhausted. We just work through it. Motherhood doesn’t stop and wait for us. With my kids that was absolutely the case. And I in no way mean that in the whiny tone of a martyr. I adore my kids and being a mom! But I won’t deny that at times it’s been hard.
So now that my kids are older and in better health, I’m having to completely re-learn how to take care of me. I’m re-learning how to slow down, listen to my body and soul, and just take time off. When this illness hit me, I was annoyed. How dare some little germs interfere with my time in nature, my photography, my sheer joy and “me time”? Hmf!
Well, as reality would have it, germs really don’t care if you “hmf” at them. Sick is sick and recovery time is recovery time. No amount of running the trails or photographing gorgeous spring blossoms can make you well when you’re really not.
I realize that my frustration with getting sick is because I had so little time off when my kids were younger. So now that I do have time for me, I relish it. I revel in it. On my daily nature hikes I’m like a kid in a candy store. Everything excites me; I can’t take it all in fast enough. I indulge myself in this self-pampering. I soak it all in with a zest for life and a passion for experience. I’m kind of unstoppable.
After all, I have years to make up for! Years when the kids who needed me came first. There was no “nature hiking for fun” then. So now that my life has the space for that, the sacred me time for that, I don’t surrender it easily. I’ll push through the offensive pollen, cold weather, even falling snow to get my outdoor communion with the deer and flowers and chickadees. This is my time, dang it, and I cling to it unyieldingly.
So this past ten days or so I’ve been fighting the need to rest. I started out pushing myself, then slowed down, then just collapsed in exhausted surrender.
And then today I remembered the last group of pictures I took as I slowed down- it was these chickadees, just like from the February post. Oh, the juicy ironies of life.
So here I blog about hanging by my toes again, poring through a folder of photographs of chickadees, giggling at the synchronicity, but interestingly, noticing that in most of the pictures the chickadees are simply being still.
Sigh. Nature delivers yet another life lesson to me. Time to stop and listen to her wise whispers.
It’s just that, well, I’ve been resisting her message.
I have a few friends here on wordpress who deal with chronic illness and pain, and who use nature photography as a healing tool as well. (An excellent blog is throughthehealinglens!)
One of the ironies I’m learning to navigate in my life is that the thing that is most healing to me- my time in nature, especially with a camera, can be thwarted all too easily by health issues. The irony is tough. What heals me, centers me, allows me the space to be healthy, well, sane, happy, and fit can also be the hardest for me to accomplish when I’m not feeling well.
But if I just stop and listen to all of the lessons nature has taught me, all of the hints on how to live well, I see clearly that nature knows when it is time to rest. In the fall, the trees don’t make a fuss about resting for the winter. They just do it. When my chickadee friends, here, had done enough flitting about, they rested. And they didn’t look annoyed about it. So I need to stop being depressed about not running the trails lately. I need to stop being frustrated by my lack of chickadee time. I need to get over missing a few of the flowers blooming this year.
But that’s the great thing about nature photography. I have pictures from all these years of meditating through the lens to pore through and look at. Nature is there for me, in photographic form, day or night, good weather or bad, sick or well.
So today I’ll peruse my folders of photos and enjoy all the nature I’ve had the joy and privilege of experiencing over the years. I’ll let myself get lost in nature’s images; I’ll let nature’s lessons come to me. I’ll be grateful for the wonderful technology that is digital photography, the marvel that allows me to re-live memories in vivid and colorful detail.
So I’m popping my head up to say hello to my blogosphere buddies. I’m not sure if I’ll be back full-time right away. This time I intend to rest as long as I actually need to! I hear the chickadees calling me to come play, but I’ll wait ’till mother nature lets me know that I’m truly up for it.
So see you soon, my cute little nature friends, I’ll be back for your doses of wisdom soon enough.
Until then… Today’s Life Lesson from Nature:
Butterflies, Bees and Blossoms… Who Hears the Buzz? A Lesson in Using All Our Senses
(Click on any of my photographs to see an enlarged image)
It’s good to be back from Spring Break!
I took last week off from blogging to spend that time relaxing with my two beloved kids. That was sheer bliss!
On one lovely day last week I became highly aware of my senses. As a nature photographer, you might think that I rely mostly on my sense of sight. I’ll admit, it’s rather obviously primary, but I couldn’t do what I do without all of my other senses.
Out on my nature hike one morning I came upon a flowering tree at the bottom of a hill. A fellow hiker had seen me taking macro shots of budding chokecherry bush leaves and suggested I continue down the hill if I wanted to see some cottontails frolicking along the fence. I thanked him and trotted down the hill, stopping to capture some nice shots of a pair of magpies who were building their nest and flapping about rather noisily.
As I came to the bottom of the hill the path rounded a corner. The bunnies hopped away from the trail just as I arrived, escaping from some barking dogs and noisy people. I stopped and watched the rabbits while I let the people and their dogs pass by. And as they walked hurriedly on, chatting and barking away, I watched several groups of people move past me, some jogging to tunes on their ipods, some running the trails, some chasing after unruly children. Finally, they all moved on, and I was left alone with the bunnies. They hid under shady tree and sat down to recoup from their dog encounter. I just smiled. I took a deep breath, thankful that it was finally quiet and calm.
But then, almost instantly, I turned my head. I caught the sound of… hmm… what was that? Buzzing! The sound of an entire chorus of bees filled my awareness and turned me around. The cacophonous noise grew louder as I turned to face it. Before me was a large tree exploding with beautiful spring blossoms.
As my eyes focused, the tree seemed to move with the motion of the bees swarming it. In graceful peacefulness they went about their busy bee jobs.
I stepped closer to take it all in and suddenly something popped out in front of me. A painted lady butterfly landed on a blossom, I pulled my camera up and began shooting.
Oblivious to the mass of striped stinging machines all around me, I leaned in and snapped, snapped, snapped away. Not a single bug bothered me. It was remarkable to be so close to them and stay so calm. But I felt comfortable. What I was feeling towards them was appreciation- for their beauty, for their pollinating services, for the privilege of being able to zoom in on their graceful activities.
I stood there for twenty minutes taking pictures, but what was sad to me was that no passer-by ever stopped. They were too busy chatting or wrangling their kids or looking at the larger landscape scenery. I felt sad for what they missed.
They missed the harmonious synchronicity of the bees dancing through the trees. They missed the humorous ballet that bees and butterflies do when jostling for blossom positions. They missed the sticky sweet fragrance of spring intoxicating them with aliveness. They missed a smorgasbord for the senses, a buffet for the eyes, nose, and ears. They missed pink and white buds, golden orange bees and butterflies, and the bluest of skies blending perfectly with fragrance and buzz.
Two days later, I was at the park hiking and doing photography with my twelve year old son. We went to a different flowering tree down on the south end of Garden of the Gods by Balanced Rock.
I was snapping pictures of the painted ladies, this time on bright pink blossoms, when three other photographers saw me, asked what I was doing and excitedly joined in. A couple of kids were running about making noise as we all “oohed” and “ahhed” at the flittering, lovely butterflies. Out of the blue my son announced, “Hey wait, there’s a lizard here!” I asked, “Where?” and looked around. He said, “I don’t know, but I hear it scurrying in the leaves!”
Yep, there in the leaves was a little prairie lizard under the tree full of butterflies. The out-of-town tourist kids squealed when they saw it, prompting the scaly critter to run up the tree and hang inconspicuously from the bark.
Good listening, son! Now the photographers had two target subjects and the kids from out of town got to see their first wild lizard.
With these experiences I became acutely aware of why I ditch my ipod when I’m doing meditative nature photography. I want to take it all in, and feel the melodious blend of experience that all my senses together creates. Nature isn’t the same in one dimension or two. It takes all our senses to really get a feel for a place, to get the full richness of any experience. It still amazes me that on that first day, no one else noticed that the tree was smothered in bees and butterflies. They never stopped to smell the luscious aroma, never spotted a painted lady.
Poor people missed out. Because no one heard the buzz.
Life Lessons from the Bighorn Sheep “Stay Present in the Moment”
(click on any of my photographs to see an enlarged image)
Life is full of unexpected moments, and I had one yesterday morning. One of those moments that catches you completely off guard and that you’re totally unprepared for. You know, the surprise party moments that knock you off your step. Yesterday was a happy nature-and-photography surprise that caught me completely unsuspecting and utterly ill-equipped.
Alas, I hadn’t packed the telephoto lens. Sigh. Well, that’s how life happens, I guess. Sometimes we just have to make do, and make the best of the situation! And that’s just what I did.
Five months ago I was blessed to have been at Garden of the Gods when the bighorn sheep came down into the park. It’s a very rare sight. While they’re known to stand on the rocky hillside that borders the park to the north, they never jump the fence and enter the central garden of towering stones. That October day, they did. It was spectacular, wonderful, and amazing. You know you’re witnessing the unusual when even the park ranger is aghast!
So when I pulled up yesterday and the bighorns were way up on the hill, I got out to snap some shots- minus the zoom lens, but hey, sometimes the point is just to remember the experience, not get the shot that’s worthy of a magazine cover.
While I got some fairly nice shots (for having no zoom), the best part for me was sharing the experience with a complete stranger, a kind, friendly, charming man named Ron. For the longest time, we were the only two on the trail by the fence. The very few other onlookers were back by the road, so it was just me and this delightful soul sharing the bighorns up close. His equipment was fabulous, and he truly got some terrific shots. The sheep were putting on quite a show for us, seeming to pose and prance just for our entertainment.
Here we were, two stunned and surprised amateur photographers, smiling nonstop, letting out “ooh” after “ah” after “wow”. It was such delicious fun. He was as giddy as I, completely absorbed in the experience of seeing these great beasts up so very close, naturally, in the wild.
As we watched them lazily grazing on the hill and skillfully climbing about the rugged boulders, we decided to shift down the path along the fence so the sun would be at our backs and off of our lenses.
I’ll never know if our moving out of the way had anything to do with their decision, but much to our mutual surprise, the bighorns came down, down, down the hill… and jumped the fence.
The poor ranger wasn’t too pleased, but we photographers were pretty darn happy. We backed up to give them their space (they are large, powerful mammals) and eventually half the herd crossed our path and settled in to graze.
For the next hour or so we stood mesmerized as the sheep munched by the road and raced back and forth over the fence a few times (cars and dogs are rather scary, after all!). We pointed things out to one another and probably looked like two kids in a candy store.
Just to be in their magnificent presence was sheer joy. They move like a school of fish when startled, with remarkable gracefulness and synchronicity for such bulky creatures. When they look you in the eye you can’t help but feel mesmerized.
Ron got the treat of a lifetime at Garden of the Gods yesterday. He got to see the bighorn sheep up close. But I think more than that he had a great time. We both commented that it was so nice to have someone to “ooh” and “ah” with, to say “wow look what that one just did!” to, and to just share the moment.
As I write this the next day, I realize that that’s also why I blog. It’s to share what I see, to say, “Does anyone else see how cool that is?!” I blog to share the meaning and beauty I perceive, because it’s in the sharing that the experience takes on a new richness, fullness, and power. The life lessons I learn in nature mean all the more to me when they’ve meant something to someone else, too.
So the sheep taught me a lesson yesterday. They taught me to just enjoy the moment, to enjoy connecting with people more than trying to get the great shots. The sheep seemed to say just be here with us and take it all in. Put the camera down and just look at us. So I did. As much as I believe, wholeheartedly, in the power of focusing our lives meditatively through the lens, in those moments when you are already so focused on the moment, so present and aware, it’s okay to stop clicking and simply be present in the moment.
While I took a lot of photographs yesterday, I also had the presence of mind to ground myself in the present, to let time feel suspended and hang like a clock with stopped hands. I took in time with the sheep.
But you know I’ll be packing the telephoto from now on… just in case… 😉
Calmly Soaring on the Hunt for What We Want in Life
Inspiration doesn’t come by flapping madly about.
Meaning and purpose in our lives are revealed not by pressure, not by effort, not by a bossy, inner voice proclaiming shoulds and nagging us about what we ought to do.
It is only by soaring above the cacophonous voices of the world (and our own past) that we enter the calm air of tranquility where our own, authentic inner voice becomes clear. And our own vision becomes clear. See not from the ground, where the clutter of life interferes with our line of sight, but from above, where the panorama of the Big Picture can put it all in perspective.
Go on a hunt for meaning. Be the hawk. Find some stillness. Find some silence. Go ahead, it’s okay. Ride the wind till you catch an updraft that suspends you and holds you gently while you listen with keen ears and see with new eyes. Stay aloft until you find what you seek. It’s there, from this view, standing out from the scenery below.
(Click on any of my photographs to see an enlarged image)
Some days upside-down and barely hanging on by our toes, other days perched way up high and on top of the world
Life Is a balancing act… and nature understands
Some days upside-down and barley hanging on by our toes, other days perched way up high and on top of the world
Heck, not just some days! It’s true of ‘some years’, ‘some months’, ‘some projects’…
I was on top of the world at the beginning of last summer, reveling in sunny warm weather, daily hikes in nature with my camera, and progress on my book coming along beautifully. But by September I was barely hanging on by my toes. A crippling medical issue had brought my photography jaunts in nature to a grinding halt. I couldn’t bear the pain of sitting at the computer to write, either, and despair was wrapping its ugly arms around me in an unwelcomed grizzly hug.
This book began as a delightful exploration of finding our balance through time in nature. (See the post: Welcome to balance through the lens.) But in some grand karmic joke my life absolutely became a balancing act as I wrapped up the last few months of photography and editing. On one side of the cosmic balancing scales sat my happy desire to complete the project, my love of my daily photographic jaunts in nature, and a sweet anticipation of the satisfaction I would feel when it was finally done. Heaped on the other side of the scale like a pile of bricks was my old nemesis- an excruciating neuralgia (nerve pain) in my left cheek, left over from a not-so-fun adventure with shingles eight years prior.
It had been many years since the pain had flared up, but evidently the stress of- okay, I’ll admit it- somewhat obsessive photography, too little sleep, and my kids just starting middle and high school had pushed me over the edge. A month after the first twinge, I was also down with bronchitis, probably brought on by the constant worry of it all, my disappointment at (I thought) not being able to finish the book before year’s end, and the frustration of being denied my daily hike-n-shoot. My time in nature is the air I breathe. It gives me freshness, light, and joy. It also gives me a few aches and pains. Let me explain…
(Click on any of my photographs to see an enlarged image)
My husband is perpetually embarrassed when I’m doing nature photography. I once posted on Facebook that it was akin to engaging in contortionist yoga with a two pound camera in your hand! Well, that’s how you get fabulous pictures of bugs’ eyes and bunny faces. You bend over, twist around, lie in the dirt, wiggle through trees and bushes, and basically make and enthusiastic ass of yourself in public. My husband thinks I look like a dork. But people on the trails usually just smile and ask me what I’m taking a picture of. They think it’s cute and funny. He thinks it’s silly. But I don’t care. At times I can be a very shy person, but that just disappears when I’m chasing chickadees, gawking at fields of wildflowers, or whispering softly to deer, “It’s ok, I’m just here to take your picture! Want to pose for me?” Well, the animals seem to think I’m pretty cool- they almost always hang around and pose for me. And the humans who think I’m a dork? Oh, well, I’m too happy to care, usually…
With the throbbing pain in my face spreading to my head, my neck, and my shoulder, and the bronchitis in my chest, I could no longer Gumby myself like a master Yogi to take pictures of tansy asters hiding under shady bushes. I couldn’t bend over to meet the bugs eye-to-eye. A good trot through the trees chasing scrub jays raised my blood pressure too much, and set the nerve to throbbing and my lungs whining. My days as some nature yoga diva were ground to a screeching halt. And wow was that depressing.
My sanity comes from my time in nature. It truly is meditation through the lens. It is balancing, restorative, relaxing and exhilarating all at once. Odd that writing a book about that threw me out of balance! But I think I needed to be reminded, viscerally, of what kinds of challenges we all really do face. Modern life is stressful, no doubt about it. And I’ve had my share of stress. Our family has had its share. I think that’s what drew me out on to the trails in the first place. Seeking my own balance as water seeks its own level. That’s why I wrote the book- and why I write this blog and post on Facebook- to bring others with me on the hiking path to the glorious land of equilibrium and sanity. This is a crazy world. And we need some un-crazy.
So I guess that in order to really mean what I was publishing, to really share some deep and profound truth, I had to really live the balancing act. So in the process of writing this book I got the full ride on the cosmic balancing scales. But if I’ve learned anything from my time in nature it is resilience. I write about it several times in the book. Something tries to cut you down to size? Brush it off and grow back even stronger than you were. Trip and fall right on your face? Hey, it happens to the best of us. Smile and keep going like nothing ever happened.
So along this book journey I made a conscious choice- to look to each new tomorrow with hope, joy, and love. What else could I do? I’d learned from the best, from those who don’t over-think it as we silly humans do, to just flow like the water, not underestimate myself, and keep my best side showing. I chose not to let anything fence me in and I never stopped reaching. I chose to believe the future could be as bright as I made it. In short, I took the advice that I’d perceived in nature and written in to the book. Life is truly a balancing act, and I’m glad nature understands.
I’m healthy and back on the trails, now, even in the cold of winter. Just the other day I spent time with the most raucous flock of American robins. A feast of juniper berries had them flapping about by balanced rock in Garden of the Gods. They were so happy, in spite of the 22 degrees on the car thermometer, and sharing their morning with them, focusing through the lens on their joy, I was happy, too.
So I’m done hanging on by my toes- for today, anyway. And like my little robin friends, here, I’m perched way up high and on top of the world.
Welcome to balance through the lens!
So what’s this blog all about and how did it come to be?
Life is a Balancing Act
This blog is about meditative nature photography™, a practice I started when doing photography for my book, Life is a Balancing Act and Nature Understands: A Photographic Journey of Inspiration!
Here’s how it all began…
In the main hallway of our home is a collage of nature photographs I’ve taken over the years. They make me happy and remind me of the places I’ve been and the beautiful, humorous, and inspiring things I’ve seen. The photos touch me, center me, bring me back to places I was smiling.
But one special day they had a different effect. As I walked mindlessly down the hall, I found myself glancing at the wall as I usually do, fleetingly noticing the images there.
But I slowly stopped, my eyes fixated on a photograph of a Golden-mantled Ground squirrel that I’d taken at Bryce Canyon.
(Click on any of my photographs to see an enlarged image)
I tilted my head and stared. It was as though he was looking right at me, and into my mind popped the words “Ahhh! You can’t see me! I’m blending in!” I giggled to myself at the thought of this creature wanting desperately to stay hidden in his shadows, and glanced around at the other pictures.
Opposite him on the wall was a bold yellow sunflower flashing its showy petals. “Hmm,” I thought. That flower certainly doesn’t seem to want to hide. It’s busy standing out boldly from the background!” I shifted my weight a bit as I scanned the other pictures.
Suddenly “stories” were popping out at me from the photos of my adventures. Another ground squirrel looked at me with a confused smirk.
A tiny blue-grey gnatcatcher in mid-air was telling itself “Keep reaching, keep reaching!” I noticed a picture of Blodgett Peak in fall and thought “That’s a blurry landscape of possibilities”. Flowers of various shapes and hues were splashed about the wall, some with their “heads” or “faces” drooping, while others cheerily turned their “faces” to the sun.
And then I saw a flower with awkward buds hanging around it. “Wow,” I actually said aloud, “some of those hanging around you sure look a little weird!”
In that moment I realized that there was a book in those photos. My little flower, chipmunk and bird friends were seemingly reaching out to us humans through my lens. Through witnessing and capturing their experiences with the camera, I had given myself a gift: the gift of feeling understood. The gift of empathy. The gift of being reminded that in my best moments and my worst, I’m not alone in what I feel. Nature understands!
That small revelation felt so good. And I had to share that feeling. Besides, I had a quote taped to my computer monitor from Tama Kieves’ fantastic book This Time I Dance: Creating the Work You Love- “The path of inspiration defies navigation. We arrive by revelation.” I wanted to run with this revelation.
I was later chatting with a particularly creative, insightful friend (amazing visual artist Alayna McKee). I couldn’t resist sharing my experience with her. When I confided the book idea she immediately “got it” and thought it was a wonderful idea. Thanks to her simple enthusiasm and encouragement that day, a year and six days later, Life is a Balancing Act and Nature Understands: A Photographic Journey of Inspiration was published.
As I wrapped up photography for the book, which admittedly became quite intense at times, I realized that I’d stumbled upon another revelation. While I’ve hiked in nature my whole life, I haven’t always done so with a camera. Spending a year in nature nearly every day, I noticed that my walks, hikes, and adventures took on a different quality when I had the camera with me. I was more focused; I slowed down. I saw more. I paid attention more. The camera, quite literally, focused me.
Being the natural teacher that I am, I had to share this wonderful experience, this remarkable feeling of being understood and finding my focus with others. My life was now so much more balanced. How many others could I help find understanding and balance and focus in their own lives? Thus a third revelation: I’d found my calling. So out of the making of the book, Balance Through the Lens™ The Art of Meditative Nature Photography™ was born.
follow the path that inspires you and leads you to glorious new things
I hope the book and this blog warm people’s hearts, make their days brighter, and helps them feel less alone and more understood. But more than that I’m hoping it gives them a new way to find their equilibrium- beyond reading the book- a way through doing nature photography to center themselves, focus, and find a restorative inner peace.
I’ll be writing expanded musings on all of the themes and page sets from the book and new inspirations from my adventures in the wild. Please share your own experiences! I’d love to hear from you!
But first,
There was another encounter with a friend, and a lizard, that inspired me to really pursue this blog…
A friend looked at a first draft copy of the book, and I was explaining to her how I got the photographs. She was flipping through the pages and came to the lizard…
“It sat still for you? Wow. You must have been really calm!”
I explained to her that when I’m doing nature photography, the world disappears for me. All I see is my subject. I become so calm, so focused, I feel suspended in time and everything else drops away, leaving me and my subject floating in a timeless dance of posing and viewing. I’ll often not notice twenty minutes going by, as I’m pulled in by the beauty of a flower’s petals, the intense focus of a busy, hungry bug, or the standoff-staring contests that squirrels like to engage in with me.
“You’re in the zone!” my friend said. “Like an athlete. You’re in the zone- it’s like you’re meditating!”
That’s exactly it. I wrote about that in the last pages of the book, how calming, restorative, exhilarating this is in a healthy, positive way. Like an athlete, sometimes my work in the field is physically demanding, exhausting even. But like an athlete, my adrenaline flows and there’s a euphoria I feel after a long, contorted, thigh-busting shoot that felt like a half-hour of squats! It’s rewarding. It’s worth it. It’s healing. It’s ecstasy.
In that moment I decided that this was something I could teach to others. A new way to become mindful, to be in the moment, to find a state of prayer or meditation, and to be in balance.
So that’s how this blog came to be!
Read on to:
The Art of meditative nature photography™?
Choosing a New Path in Life
Choosing a new path in life sometimes involves climbing mountains,
getting a little dirty, breaking a sweat, and
finding yourself lost in the magnificent forest of “new possibilities”
Follow your heart and walk on…
This blog represents a new path for me…
I walk it in the hopes that many others not only follow me, but find their own amazing, inspiring trails…
Life is a winding adventure, replete with myriads of twists and turns, hills and valleys, fabulous sights and stretches of drudgery. But it’s a grand journey. And the path we choose to follow reflects who we really are. I can be the shiest, quietest person in the room, or the biggest squirrely spaz you ever met. I have a tremendously intellectual serene side (I am a trained philosopher, after all), complemented with an insatiable curiosity and love of exploration. So it’s not surprising that the paths I wander reflect all of that.
In my outings in nature I experience hushed soft whispers from forests so quiet that all I hear is the wind in the trees. But I also feel my heart race at the sound of a raven calling as it soars overhead. I felt my heart pound the day I heard a mountain lion growl.
At times I’m nearly running down the trail, giggling as I follow a flock of feathered-something- or-others. At times I’m completely startled to round a corner and find a deer on the trail, or a chipmunk hurriedly crossing my path.
And then there are the moments when time stands still. Like the moment the fledgling nuthatch landed in front of me, only to become so tired it began to drift off to sleep. Inches from my lens, I breathed with it in the moment, click…click…click… mindlessly I just clicked away as I stared through the lens at this darling little creature snoozing before me. One click finally woke it up with a start. I smiled, and breathed slowly. So still, so completely, hopelessly, in this moment. This one sweet little moment when the nuthatch let me share in its nap.
(Click on any of my photographs to see an enlarged image)
That’s why I love nature photography. That’s why I’m out on the trails. To make friends with baby nuthatches, listen to whispering trees, and take photographs to remember those delicious moments in time, learn from them, and share them with you.
But it’s all new for me! I’ve never blogged before. This is a new fork in the trail. Publishing the book was a towering mountain to climb. I broke a sweat. I even panicked a few times. I dared to look down and thought “What on earth am I doing?” But then I looked back up. I looked ahead. And I saw the vast forest of “new possibilities”. It beckoned.
So I followed my heart and walked on…
You might be wondering, “So what did the camera add to this experience? Couldn’t you have just looked at the bird?”
The camera, as it almost always does, added dimensions. On the one hand it zoomed me in. I was nowhere but right there, right then. When you zoom in, several things happen all at once. On the one hand it blocks out. Try this. Put your hands up, cupped around your eyes, narrowing your field of vision to a “tunnel” in front of you. That’s blocking out the extraneous. That’s focusing you in on something more specific than your peripheral, easily-distracted normal viewing mode allows. You’re just hovering, you and your subject, in a moment of timelessness.
The camera also brings you in to something else’s perspective and scale. Tightened in on just the nuthatch, I was seeing the world the way he does, from his vantage point, on his scale of things. That sensation takes you out of yourself and into another being’s shoes, or paws, or feet. Your everyday concerns drop away. You’re in the bird’s world right now. Your perspective has changed. Life looks very different when you’re standing in the feet of a tiny young nuthatch. His world is so different from yours. He’s not stuck in rush hour traffic or worried about next month’s bills. So, breathing in to this timelss moment…at least for right now, neither are you.
It’s very mindful. Something holds your attention. The camera blocks everything else out. You focus on the here and now. Time seems to change. You seem to change. And your troubles melt away.
So go get out there. Breathe in to the experience. Listen. Look. Feel.
Find your forest of new possibilities. Find some dreams to dream about and some epic scenery to inspire you to new heights. Let go. Let time stand still. If you just look, you’ll see the forest of new possibilities, too. Because that’s what happens when you clear your mind, regain your balance, and open up again. A little time away from “regular life” breathes a new life into your journey.
And if you can’t get out there today, or this week?
I’m here for you… me & my camera. Ready to share what we find.
The Art of Doing Meditative Nature Photography
So what is meditative nature photography™?
It’s what I create books and blogs about, and what I want to inspire others to try!
It is a way to creatively use nature photography as a tool for relaxation, healing, meditation, and finding deeper meaning in life. A way to bring mindfulness and joy to our lives that I discovered while doing photography for my book Life is a Balancing Act and Nature Understands: A Photographic Journey of Inspiration.
My passion is to share this technique with others so they can discover how to get up close and intimate with nature’s beauty. I feel compelled to share this because it has been so transformative for me! I have gained so much from hanging out with leaves, lizards, and lenses, coyotes, cactus flowers and cameras!
If I can help others to feel the same joy in their lives, experience the same improvements to their well-being, the same contentment, happiness, and sense of adventure that I’ve achieved… well, that would be amazing. And if I can help others find ‘balance through their lenses’, then my adventures in nature will take on a new meaning, a new significance… a new reason for being.
So I invite you to come enjoy this way to bring mindfulness and joy to our lives.
What do you need to join in?
A camera, a patch of nature to wander around in, and a sense of awe, wonder, and adventure!
What does it cost? Nothing, of course!
If you do take up meditative nature photography™?, just pay it forward! Teach someone else what you’ve learned. Share your joy and inspiration. That’s your donation to nature and to humanity!
Visit me here and take a read. Come join me on Facebook for daily giggles, smiles, and “Ahhhhhh” moments from the trails.
What I’ll be sharing are pictures and words… Not just a pretty quote to accompany a pretty picture, I’ll be “quoting nature”! I’ll be sharing the meaning I see in nature, unlocking and uncovering nature’s understanding, empathy, and wisdom in each photo. And I encourage you to find your own meaning in the photos! And better yet, go take your own pictures and discover your own stories. Let nature whisper to you!
(Click on any of my photographs to see an enlarged image)
So come join in! Let’s crate a community of people who hear nature’s stories, are moved by nature’s wisdom, and are amused and touched by nature’s compassion for the struggles, triumphs, and complexities of our human lives!
Together we’ll help each other find balance on our paths through life!
For fans of the book:
I’m also going to do a series of blogs expanding on all of the page sets from the book.
Each set will have a longer look at the theme, and maybe some blooper pictures, too! Here’s a few ‘fan favorites.’
A few thoughts on why this is so good for us.
I think we get in touch with something simpler, much more basic and uncluttered when we see a reflection of our own thoughts, emotions, and states of mind in nature. When we’re reading a book about “improving our lives” or talking about our problems, (which can certainly still be good things!), we’re doing something more complex; we’re doing analysis (I should know, I’m a philosopher by training- we analyze everything).
Seeing ourselves through nature is much less cluttered, less analysis-oriented, and more of a word-less and implied understanding that we simply feel. We simply observe. We just see that the bird’s struggles are like ours- even without forming words about it. We just sense it all, on a somewhat subconscious level. We allow ourselves to just be with the feeling, the observation. We tune in to what nature has to say.
It simply tells us, in unspoken terms, hey, you’re not alone, this is simply life stuff!
We all deal with it, from the littlest inchworm to the biggest bear. Flowers experience the struggle to break through the cool spring soil. Chipmunks experience the triumph of hurdling a branch. Animals can be lonely, tired, or overwhelmed. Plants can get too crowded, or feel like their needs just aren’t met. We humans are not so different, not so special… if all the beings out there in nature could sit down and talk to us, they’d all say, “Boy do we understand!”
It’s that understanding that will warm your heart, bring down your walls, catch you off guard, restore your humility, and let you just breathe in to life… good and bad, hard and easy, sad and triumphant.
After all, it’s just “natural”…
As for me,
My days are profoundly different depending on whether or not I’ve been outside. Sometimes, especially if it’s early in the morning after dropping off the kids, I’ll think to myself as I arrive at my hiking spot, “Huh- I could still be sleeping right now! But instead I’m out here, in the cool morning air, birds flapping all about looking for breakfast.” I ponder how different their lives are from mine… the words drop away, and then, before I know it, I’ve lost myself once again in the gentle arms of a nature that really does understand.
Have fun on the trails, and see you here and on Facebook!
And make sure you read the previous entry! “Welcome to balance through the lens”. It explains what this blog is all about and how it come to be!
About Photography…
I’m not the greatest photographer in the world. I don’t have particularly fancy equipment. I am admittedly less well-versed in f-stops, apertures and lens choices than I probably should be!
But there are books, classes, photography clubs and many other resources out there if you want to learn more about the technical aspects of nature photography.
What I’m sharing are my insights and experiences, through photography. It’s a tool, an artistic outlet of expression. My aim is not to take great photographs that will end up on the cover of a magazine. My intention is to have an experience that is enhanced by the act of doing photography. What I enjoy is the artistic, insightful telling of stories that nature shares with me.
What I think is special about nature photography is that it really pulls us out of the built-up, demanding, modern world. It takes us out of the realm of culture, out of “words”, out of hectic, out of the everyday. I take pictures of lots of things (especially my kids and their activities!) but it’s the nature photography that quiets my soul, rejuvenates my spirit, and fills me back up when I’m drained and stressed out. It restores me.
When I’m in the eyes of a chickadee, there is no room in my awareness for bills to pay, errands to run, work stress or family hecticness. It’s just me. And the chickadee. Right here. Right now. Breathing, feeling, soaking in just this one moment… one moment at a time.
Try it. 🙂
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