The last two years of my life have been intense and rich; life has expanded higher, wider, and deeper than ever before. It's been wonderful, and it's meant incredible change for all of us. These seasons prove what is essential, and what can be missed. We bend, stretch, move, and let go when needed.
Some of the things I used to enjoy daily needed to shift back for a time. If it did not have a soul, a voice, or a deadline, it fell behind. Experimental cooking, writing, reading as much as I'd like, hiking trips, and photography took huge hits. I've slowly brought these things back into my routine, rightly placed; everything but my camera. It's been packed away for months.
Yesterday while on retreat at an empty monastery, I took it out for the first time this year.
I held it in my hands, it's weight familiar and right. All my muscle memory was there and ready. I looked her over, apologized briefly, and began.
My camera does not have a soul, a voice, or a deadline, but the discipline of seeing expands my own soul, and so for me, it is essential.