Should I?

Should I... let myself step beyond the boundary of known and dare to assume that there is joy waiting patiently in that place called destiny? Should I take a few steps back and race toward it? No. I'll stand there for hours, that stretch into days, that stretch into months, and even years. I'll study the horizon and assess the weather. I'll trace the waves, take ease in the calm, and reach for the water to test its strength. I won't see through it. Should I let myself feel the softness of sand when I reach the bottom? Should I trust that it will hold the weight of my fears and swallow an unspoken suffering? Should I trust that I will see the light through an opaque tomorrow? And should I grant my heart permission to carry me toward it. Should I lie on my back with closed eyes and float on the gentle rock of waves toward a destination with no name? Dare I smile at the thought of that?

I should.

Shot with the Cameramatic app on my iPhone 4s and processed with Snapseed.

How to Live

Having come to the hopefully, middle of my life, the question of How to Live? has never loomed larger. In fact, it has bubbled up from within me this 47^th year of my life not as a whisper or a nudge, but as a volcano/tsunami/earthquake/tumbling end-over-end-in-deep-space-without-the-astronaut-rope-to-the-mother-ship, that has left me feeling deeply disoriented, spiritually bankrupt, and quite frankly, in an anguishing pain.

A life-long hater of all things cigarettes, I actually bought a pack one day recently, thinking I should take up smoking. I have nearly gone insane from emotional pain in the last 10 months with the last 3 months being particularly horrendous. And I mean literally insane.

I have spent roughly the last 30 years working on myself. In that time, through hard work, a variety of therapies and spiritual work, I gratefully managed to have broken the cycle of violence, addiction and aggression in myself that is my family tree. And yet here I am, wondering if there is any Thing or One or Power out there in the universe who cares personally about my life and my existence.

I have developed an intimate relationship with Despair this year. I believe this is what the philosophers officially call an Existential Crisis.

Other people would probably just say I need to buck up, get over it, forget the recent past, and move on. And maybe I do need to do all those things. But telling someone who is grieving, lost, desperate, emptied out of things they knew, is like telling a pig to fly. Sometimes, the spiritual practice we have cultivated or had for many years ceases to be effective. We find ourselves simply unable to go on the way we have been. We crave comfort for the blows we have received. We want respite from the torture of heart and mind. We crave wholeness. We wish we could laugh like we did in the old days.

I know enough not to strike out to try and make myself feel better. Staying still and quiet can sometimes feel like you are turning an ocean liner on a dime. It is a Herculean effort and one that awakens me each night at 3.30 am. I often feel I can find no way out of the emptiness and betrayal and injustice of it all.

What I am describing is the lesson I am learning at mid-life which is how to accept life on life’s terms. To surrender to the way things have gone, which is not to say I agree or like them, or think some people have treated me decently, but rather to say, the question of How to Live? begins with surrender and acceptance. These are not easy things for me. I kick and scream and cry and wail. I feel as if I will die.

There are things going on in my life right now that I have no idea how to accept. They are too big, too unfair, too upsetting. They turn my stomach to acid and upset me so much I usually make a sound out loud.

I’d like to share with you one of two things I have discovered as a way through the process of grief, loss, being emptied out, disoriented, betrayal, being lied too, humiliated…. whatever your particular heart pain is, and toward acceptance and serenity (the other one is for another post another time!).

You are either holding it in your hand, on your lap, or staring into it right now. It is your camera phone and your computer.

Bet you didn’t expect that right?!

Well, neither did I.

Here’s what I have found: Our refuge lies in our ability to express ourselves and in our ability to lose ourselves in the world around us.

Every day now, I go out into the world with my iPhone and look at people and light and the environment. I have found that walking is one of the only things that soothes my pain. So I have been walking all over NYC taking pictures. Sometimes I am out there for hours and hours. Well, actually, I am usually  out there for hours and hours! (I recently had to get a bigger external hard drive to store all my photos) I don’t know if it’s because I am getting older, or just my particular state these days, but the quality of light has been indescribably beautiful to me at certain times of day.

When I take photos with my iPhone, I am absorbed into the act of looking and seeing and therefore forget about my pain and myself. It is the most magical occurrence. I lose track of time and feel a reprieve unlike any I have known. The world goes on even though I often feel I cannot. The human condition is right there in front of me. The colors and gestures and surprises that catch my eye deliver me. My perspective is literally changed—it’s expanded, softened, and moves into a sort of hope. Which is another way to say I have received a little bit of acceptance and serenity from my camera and the act of looking.

As I write this, it has been 10 days since I had to put the love of my life, my 14-year-old dog, Rumi, down. She had been failing in health for a couple months and when her quality of life crossed a certain threshold, I didn’t want her to feel one more ounce of suffering. She was put down at home, I held her in my arms, and she was surrounded by four exceptional, gentle, women who cried along with me and helped me function afterwards. I have been deeply affected by her death, and had to leave my apartment in the days after, her absence was so enormous and felt like the last straw in a string of deep losses. 

It’s sometimes the right thing to get on a plane and fly to the sun and beach, which is what I did.

The reason I tell you this about my sweet dog, is because the day after she died, I woke up and went to get her food out of the fridge like I have for all those years and realized she wasn’t here anymore and that I would never be able to see her or kiss her or hold her again. I had no idea how to manage my feelings. I was choking I was crying so hard—and then I heard this voice inside that said, Write to her.

So, being the Moleskine hoarder that I am, I walked over to my desk and opened a brand new one and began in my favorite black marker, Dear Rumi, I miss you so much… It’s been years since I hand wrote in a journal, but I have written to her every day since she left and I feel so close to her. My point here is not the Moleskine. My point is the writing. The pouring out of feelings to someone you think will listen and who loves you so much and never wants you to hurt. We simply cannot bear these things alone.

We are never lost to ourselves when we take refuge in our creative expression. There is deep comfort to be felt there.

All this is to say, I hope you will join Tracey Clark and I for our month-long photography course, Two Takes which is about using photography to support, sustain, and comfort you in your life.

Which, for me, is another way to say, How to Live?

Images and words from photographer and writer Bindu Wiles. You can find more about Bindu on her blog or find her on Instagram @binduwiles.

Share with us today the image(s) in which you have found refuge and you'll be entered to win a random drawing for a complementary registration for Two Takes. Leave your comment by midnight EST 3/8. The winner will be announced on Friday 3/9.

photography spoken here

Before I was brave I was camera shy.

But we speak photography here. This community, in all the ways it has grown since its birth in 2007, has been a life force for so many women photographers that I know. It is so much more than a platform, a foundation, a place of strength. Yes, it's a community of like minds. Yes, a gathering place for those of us who not only embrace the technicalities of our equipment but also the emotions our images evoke.

We carry balance here. This is the sisterhood we feel. Day in and day out we feel welcome here, invited to the creative circle. That confidence grows tenfold as we all walk away with inspiration to shoot another day.

We speak photography here. 
We are peers.
Sisters.

In this profession/passion/career/hobby where mostly men have made the rules, we as women photographers changed the game. Years ago I found it hard to walk into my local camera shop and be taken seriously (especially if I had my child with me). That statement is simply ridiculous and yet it's completely true. Did anyone else feel that? (2007 was only 5 years ago, sisters! Women have turned the photography world upside down, all for the better!) Now I walk with confidence knowing I am part of this revolution, the photographic revolution of sisters. Can you feel it too? We do our part each and every day we shoot photos and share images and leave comments all the while going about our busy days.

We know your lives are busy.  We know there are lots of places to visit and such little time to chat. So, today, I simply wanted to thank you. For being part of this creative circle. We may lurk, we may not have time to comment, we may be juggling jobs and kids and passions... but we feel your presence as you feel ours. This is sisterhood. This is friendship over the miles. Please know that if I could gather all of you up into one familiar city, I would. And we would shoot the breeze and share tips and recommendations for print shops. And there would be wine and ice cream and photowalks and laughter. And it would be awesome.

Today can we carry on this conversation? I'm new to town and I would love to know your favorite shops or where you find inspiration online. What's the latest in your photographic world? What's the latest in your camera bag? Today I want to hear what you want to talk about... what do you want to hear? Any exciting projects you'd like to share? Let's make today an open forum for discussion. And of course, share any images or links that you are loving these days.

intimacy

    

The thing I remember loving the most about my years as a portrait photographer was the ability to capture moments rarely noticed by anyone else. Moments of connection, family life, love, laughter. I made it my mission to seek out the nuances that often got overlooked; the things, that when distilled through my lens felt like magic.

Of all the wonderful things I've been privileged to witness, the ones I feel most honored to share have been the moments of intimacy. The pauses in between the expected shots. The quick glance, the exhale, the gentle touch, the subtle gesture, the contemplative expression, the comfort, the ease.

Perhaps this is why I like to get in close to my subjects. Getting in close means you have to deliberately choose only a few  details amongst the bigger picture that you want to frame in your shot.  It means you're really looking, noticing, honoring that person, that moment, that intimate view into something or someone as if somehow been allowed in to be a part of something rare and wonderful.

Today, show us your version of getting up-close and personal with your subject, whatever or whoever it may be.

Pick me up

I've had a rough couple of days. You know the ones. Where everything goes wrong and there's not enough time and you just don't handle things well. Where you lose your cool and let everything get the best of you. The days when you just look forward to bed. I know we've all been there but somehow it doesn't make it any less disheartening.

I was wallowing around, groaning and grumbling about what was probably nothing discernable to anyone, while my husband opened a package that came in the mail. As he pulled out a bundled wad of newspaper about the size of a grapefruit, he slowly uncovered a small box made of polished metal and shiny black plastic.

"I got this for you because...because...you're having a bad day", he said soft and kind with his gentle smile and extended his offering to me.

I went from miserable to grateful in an instant. As I studied the pristine vintage Kodak Brownie Reflex 20, I marveled and smiled back. Totally speechless.

"And look, " he continued, as he lifted the lid that covered the large viewfinder at the top, "it's just like you wanted."

Indeed. There is was, a viewfinder that framed the beautiful world outside of my muddled head; saturated color, bold shapes, bright light and clarity. Like a child, I began to squeal with delight and so began the instantaneous shift from pity party to creative celebration.

Playing with my new toy for about an hour pulled me out of my mood. Not for good unfortunately, for I do believe that hormones will have the best of me for a few more days, but certainly for long enough to be reminded that sometimes a kind gesture, a simple spark, a tiny new way to see the world is all it takes to shine light on the darkest places.

Tell me, when was the last time you had a shift like this, from blue to blush? Was it something someone said? What it using your own camera to mine out the gems of your life? Share with us they way you've experienced your own kind of "pick me up".

Image of me holding my new muse (above) courtesy of my 8 year old daughter via my iphone.