safety nets

 

Taking risks is not easy for everyone. Who am I kidding? Taking risks is not really easy for anyone. Because taking risks usually means doing something that makes us feel unsure, uncomfortable, unsafe, or uneasy. And that is hard.  Yet, people  take risks every day. Some big and some small. But, no matter the size, or the significance (or even insignificance) of the risk, what does matter is that we stepped out of comfort zone for a while. We pushed ourselves, put ourselves out there, leaped, took the plunge, dove in.

One of the best part of a community like this one here at Shutter Sisters is that in each other, we have a support system, a cheering section, a life ring. It doesn't always make taking risks less scary but knowing that there is a safety net of sisters here for you can really help remind us that we're all in this together.

Are there risks you've taken that you'd like to share? How about risks you want to take but are afraid to? The more we share our fears, the less power they have over us. Remember, you are not alone. We're here for each other.

trusting inspiration

 

I picked up the camera so many times and looked through the viewfinder.  Maybe fired off a couple of frames half-heartedly.  Sometimes I deleted them in the camera, but there are hundreds more sitting on my hard drive, unedited, unviewed.  The light stopped speaking to me.  The camera body no longer fit my hands like a beloved tool.

If I can’t see images, how can I think of myself as a photographer?  Worse yet, what does it say about the way I’ve filled my life, if it doesn’t inspire so much as a snapshot?

It was a long way to fall.  I finished a 365 project last October, totally inspired, totally proud of myself, totally grateful.  It is a powerful exercise to keep your eye and heart attuned to the beautiful and the remarkable in the midst of your everyday life.  To have a photographic record of your progress over a year.  To begin to see yourself as an artist.

But with the year up, I stopped shooting every day.  I stopped being so mindful.  I bought myself a fancy new camera but immediately lost my courage.  It is a Serious Camera.  In my head this camera deserved to shoot Serious Things instead of my everyday life.  I shot less.  I felt it as a little death, this loss of a fledgling creative life.  It’s not the sort of thing you hold a wake for though.  No one brings you red wine and casseroles while you wonder why your eyes don’t work anymore.  There was grief but it was mine alone.

But recently I’ve started to notice shadows again.  There is the color of autumn leaves.  There are long eyelashes and kids in mismatched prints and wet dog noses.  My eyes are hungry.  My hands are a little itchy for the heavy camera body, even though it still feels awkward in my grip sometimes.  I’ve started carrying it with me again, so I’m ready when it calls to me.

I’m starting to understand that it wasn’t a death after all.  It was just the change of seasons.  I’m starting to believe that just as I know that autumn always follows summer, I can trust inspiration and vision to return.

Have you ever had a dry spell?  How did you work your way out of it?  What inspired you to start again?

Image and words courtesy of the wonderful Corinna Robbins of Bird Wanna Whistle.

just play

While here at Oasis, we are connecting on so many different levels yet each person takes away their own experiences.  In just the 24 hours that we've been here I've heard: be in the moment, take care of you, laugh, connect, relax, breathe but  most importantly, just play and have fun.  I know, so much easier said then done sometimes.  But here at the gorgeous and fantastically fun Ace Hotel, there are no hard and fast rules.  From hulahoops to tutus to just laughing and having a good time (and of course, having a camera present makes it even that much better!), there is definitely a lot of playtime goin' on and that is always a good thing. 

How about you? Show us how you connect through play.  We'd love to see. 

letting go

Each fall, I watch as the weather cools off and the ground becomes littered with yellows, browns, oranges and reds. The trees shed their leaves and turn their attention inward, gathering the energy released by the decomposing leaves and transforming it into the new beginnings of spring.

Just as the trees must release their old leaves to make room for new ones, we must let go of things in our lives that no longer serve us, especially our fears, in order to make room for new possibilities. It can be a difficult process, though. Even when I know my fears are not serving me, I wrap myself in them like a cozy, old sweater because I have grown comfortable with them.

When I don't know where to start, I pick one fear and name it. By starting with just one fear and giving it a name, I make it into something more manageable – something I can release, taking the bits of knowledge about myself that I find within it and transforming them into something new. Just as trees lose one leaf at a time, we can choose one fear at a time and let go of it. 

What are you letting go of this fall? How are you making space for the new leaves that will appear in your life next spring?

Gennifer Carragher was raised on the beach, grew up in the woods and now spends her days capturing the magic of these places with her camera and sharing her photo adventures on her blog. If you love fall as much as she does, consider joining her in Embracing Fall, her newest e-course.

Stumbling Upon Kindness

What this world needs is a new kind of army - the army of the kind. ~Cleveland Amory

I recently shared an Instagram image of my husband and I standing on a street corner in NYC near a chalk-drawn heart at our feet.  A friend asked on the feed, “Did you bring your own chalk?” The comment made me laugh. It sounds like me actually, to do something like that but in this instance, it was someone else who brought the chalk. In fact, it was what I would consider a random act of kindness. We found a number of these chalk hearts along our walk around the city that evening.

Sometimes when we engage ourselves in activities like leaving hope notes, or sidewalk messages, we forget that others might be doing the same. To stumble across gestures of kindness from strangers is nothing short of wonderful. It reminds me that we are all called to be a part of “the army of the kind”.

Today, share a story that expresses the power (and beauty) of kindness.