I Picked up my Camera

I was diagnosed with Postpartum Depression (PPD) a little over a year ago.  My reaction to the diagnosis was mixed.  At that point in my life, I was completely numb to everything that was going on around me, detached from my little girls, my husband, my friends.  I guess I could say I was relieved by the news, slightly comforted by the fact that I had an excuse for how I was acting.  The depression wasn’t me; it was something that was happening to me.

Unfortunately, all that came with the diagnosis was a bottle of little blue pills and a handful of books.  I needed help, and I thought I had asked for it.  I couldn’t find support groups or therapists because I would have a panic attack just thinking about having to pick up the phone.  The “what ifs” were incessant, and I was drowning in them.  I had to completely depend on the help of those around me, primarily my husband who truly became my knight-in-shining-armor.  Not only was I numb, detached, and anxious, I felt that I had absolutely no control over what was happening to me.  I would try to talk to myself rationally, convince myself I’d be ok, but emotionally I was consumed.  I felt like my life had stalled.  I kept trying to start it back up again, but something just wasn’t making a connection. 

Slowly, things started to get better, and as they did, I realized that I needed an outlet.  I needed a way to document what was happening, what I was seeing, how I was feeling.  I needed to put myself out there so others could see and understand what was going on in my life.  I picked up my camera and began a 365 day project.  I decided that if I made myself pick up my camera everyday to learn something new about it, or about taking pictures, or about post-processing, then I would be spending less time feeling sorry for myself and I would start a new process of growth.

I failed miserably at my project, only making it 1/3 of the way through, but that was only as far as I needed to go.  Along the way I discovered some pretty amazing people, and they inspired me over and over again, though they may not have even realized it.  Not only that, but I was encouraged to try new things, to set goals, and to take risks.  Most importantly, I found myself surrounded by a community of strong and wise women who brought me back from something dark and scary.  I’m finally at a place, one year later, that I feel I’m on top of things (though we all have our down days).  All it took was working up the nerve to pick up my camera.

What has your camera done for you?

Photo and words courtesy of Honorary Sister/ Guest Blogger Meg Farehbach (Tea & Brie). 

a place in time

The magnet of our childhood is in us always, pulling us back to places once familiar. It moves effortlessly like a current, pulsing with the strength of iron in our blood.

I think of this on long drives {with my hands on the wheel and his sleepy body buckled in the backseat} I think of this fleeting moment of adventure together ... just me, my son, and a map. With a head full of memories {the rocky coastline of Maine} and a heart full of dreams. I think this freedom is not really knowing where you're going but believing in your heart you'll soon find your way.

Why this path? {it's not for me to know} It's well worn, this road that leads me through the driving rain. I am here in this place in time. Yet my compass spins to East. {always has, always will} I find myself circling like a hawk, always with one eye on my happy place.

Show me, will you? Your happy place... a piece of your heart, a place you return to again and again. Show me the places you're drawn to, the places you belong. Let me join you there if only in our dreams.

Picture and words courtesy of Meredith Winn or as many of us know her, camerashymomma. We are thrilled to welcome Meredith as a regular contributor here at Shutter Sisters. We are so lucky to have her!

playful pause

September's One Word Project brought so much joy to my weary heart throughout the month. Like so many women I know, I have piled so much on my plate lately I am overwhelmed. So much of it's good good stuff and yet, it still means work. And navigation. Concentration and so much emotional and even physical energy. I'm too busy. Too tired. Overextended.

When I get like this, it's images like this one from E Whitaker Photo that remind me of what's important. Slow down, it gently urges me. Remember how fast time passes and how you can miss it if you don't take some time to observe and appreciate it.

My girls are much older than the two children above and perhaps that is why it breaks my heart. And yet, I am delighted in the same breath as I am reminded of life's playful simplicities. So grateful that I took time out tonight, after bedtime, to let my oldest daughter soak in a warm tub to ease her body and mind after a long day of middle school. I sat there on the bathroom floor with her and just listened and we laughed together and just were. Like these two. Slow, simple, easy.

It's the levity of the simple moments we all need. The easy play time. The lightheartedness of being in our own world and also of being with others. I will miss the word play. It's been exactly what I've needed. On this last day, please share a playful moment. Anything goes. Make me laugh. Make me cry. Take me away.

Tomorrow we wll announce the new word for October. Don't miss it. It will be equally as wonderful I'm sure of it.

the long and winding road

The journey of life is one we all travel. The road can sometimes be an uphill climb and other times it can be a smooth coast. But often we're moving along the tracks fast and furious, much like a roller coaster.

We look out past the horizon and seek hope. Good things to come. Promise. But what happens at a fork in the road? You can't help but question which way to go.

As I've been walking my path lately, I'm discovering hills and valleys, twists and turns that I didn't see coming. And one after the next, there seems to be an outcropping of crossroads. Crossroads with no signs that tell which way to go.

I know myself pretty well. I know that I'll just keep walking, running, skipping, crawling along my path (depending on the day). I know that even though I'm feeling unsure and unsteady at times that to keep on going is the only thing to do. Holding my gaze steady and making my steps deliberate will get me to a clearing where I can meander and enjoy myself a little more. Where the smells of sweet meadow grasses fill the air and the warm sun will light my way.

Do you have any path or road images in your arsenal?  Any moment in time that a scene in front of your beckoned you to come forward; to walk, to dream, to imagine, to trust?

Lead us today.

little gifts

Beth's hands.  Photographed with Nikon D300, 60mm lens.

A few days ago, I went to my friend Beth's house, to take a few photographs for her book.  I have to admit that I did not go over there in the best frame of mind: I had been very overwhelmed with things I have yet to do that haven't been completed, and coupled with some news I a few days earlier -- good news, but news which will require even more responsibility of me -- I walked into Beth's house a completely jangled nerve.

But Beth is one of those truly calming spirits, and within minutes, my stress melted away.  She made me a huge cup of tea -- from loose tea leaves, none of this teabag nonsense -- and cut me a slice of warm banana bread, which, judging from the heady scent of baking that was still in the air in her home, I knew was fresh from the oven.  We sat and talked, I shared what was going on my life, and she listened closely.  She cheered me on, encouraged me, and gave me advice.  And by the time I picked up my camera, my outlook on life had completely changed.

It was such a lovely reminder:  the little things we do for people can have such an impact on their spirits, can't they? 

Today, please share your images of the little gifts we give each other (symbolic or otherwise) that can help raise our spirits.

(Crossposted at Chookooloonks)