Stories

My word for 2015

Stories

Happy and Sad Hold Hands

A couple of years back, I was struck by sorrow and celebrations's presence in the same time space, same breath even. How grieving and happiness could co-exist was baffling to me. I resisted it, felt that experiencing one in the other's presence was somehow disrespectful and took something away from the other. Yet, time and time again, it was so. They shared space.

As I began to accept that this was indeed how things went and how things could go, I saw it more and more. I also saw how the cohabitation of differing emotions and what seemed to be extreme experiences was actually a kindness, a necessary kindness, maybe more obviously in the face of sorrow, but even so, a kindness. One helps the other not to get stuck, to keep moving forward, moving through, and the other helps keep the right pace, not too rushed, enough of a slowing to enable presence and alignment of priorities.

I dubbed this co-existence with a phrase that has stayed with me, "happy and sad hold hands." These words gently remind me that it is okay for both to be together, not just side by side, but intrinsically and intentionally linked to help me through life's journey.

Close. Closer.

Get close.

Now closer (and maybe turn your head to the side).

It amazes me what I can see through my macro lens. The excellence of creation and its detailed design boggles my mind. A whole new appreciation for that which is sometimes comes through the lens of my camera. What do you see through your lens?

Cheek to the Concrete

We have moss growing along the railway ties that border our concrete patio. This morning I lay on my patio to get a closer look but even that wasn't close enough. Cheek to the concrete, camera to my eye, finally I could see what I couldn't from any other vantage point. Even in the smallest of lives, there is moving and growing and stretching. More is happening than what I see from day to day. There is abundance and fullness found in the wee, the small, the unnoticed.

I used my 60 mm macro lens to get this shot. Shallow depth of field highlighted by the morning light was just right to give this wee little patch of moss an enchanting feel.

Space Between

There is space between time. Sometimes long and wide. Sometimes short. What fills the space for you?

I took this picture of a vintage spoon. The spoon belonged to my mother. I believe it was part of a set received as a wedding gift.

Many years lie between the day this gift was received and the day I took this image. Much fills that space. Laughter and tears, hardship and happiness, disappointments and dreams.

I think sometimes we can be in a hurry to fill up the spaces with many things but I think we might just lose sight of the fact that there is already something of significance in some of the spaces...quiet. Might I suggest that leaving room for space,    for quiet,    is important every now and again? It allows us room to breathe, to consider, to reflect, to enjoy, to notice, to hear.

I deliberately left space in this shot, hopefully allowing room for you and your reflections.

Using a 60 mm macro lens, I was able to get up close and personal, capturing the textures in the worn edges of the spoon and also the grain in the wood surface it rests on. Adding a layer in processing allowed for additional focus on age and time's passage, without getting too cluttered and distracting. When adding layers, choose wisely. Just as a well chosen digital layer can be a tool to enhance your image, it can also detract if the wrong one is chosen.

Tenderness

Be Careful With Our Lives

I like Frederick Buechner's writing. Those of you who know me well will already know this as I quote him from time to time. I've even quoted this particular quote before. It bears repeating, if not for anyone else than for my own sake.

I Never Know What I'll Find

I never know what I'll find. Well, I guess I do have a pretty good idea of what is in my own backyard, but what I mean is I don't know what will find me. What will stand out to me, call for my attention, and ultimately be what I see?

Today it was this flower going to seed. As has often been the case, when I uploaded my images to my computer, I wondered what it was about this familiar sight that stopped me long enough to see it and take its picture.

Here's what I like:

I like the contrast of the faded flower against the gorgeous green of the leaf it rests on. I like the burnished edges of the bloom and how they echo the colour found in the background.

Here's why I like:

Living holds on in this image, at least for today, supported and belonging.

Faith

She looks ahead towards the future; it is unknown to her, behind the shadows and just out of view. She is hopeful as she reaches forward in faith.

Life is for living. Today, in faith, I will reach forward.

Thoughts: Life and Living

I turned the computer off at 6:30 pm yesterday. It felt odd at first and then...I began to relax. I sat on the couch and listened to music. Soon my daughter joined me and we chatted for a good while. And then I read. It was such a good evening. Making the choice to go offline certainly improved my quality of living yesterday evening. I will do this again.