from a slow growing series for the group project where you live

“To photograph is to hold one’s breath…”

Henri Cartier-Bresson

“Children will stand and try to walk and fall . . . over and over without fear of failure.  They will take a few tentative steps, fall over, get up, and try again.  Children are not afraid to fail.  Children are afraid to accept that who they are right now is all they are going to be.”

John Bingham

Religion on a photography blog?  Well yes, a little.  First, an important message from the sponsor:  I believe there are many paths to finding a connection with the spirit in your life, and I don’t think there is any one right answer.   Even if there was, I can guarantee you I wouldn’t have it.   ;)  So, read this post knowing I don’t think my way is the only way.  It’s just the one I understand best.

Lately I’ve been thinking about how religious and spiritual ceremonies are often a reflection of  nature’s pacing.  Spring and the message of rebirth.  Fall and the harvest festivals that gather families in celebration of earth’s gifts.  The festivals of light during winter’s darkest days.

Here and now, a Pacific Northwest mid-winter lent.  The days are getting a little lighter; my daughter has spotted the first crocus; an early blooming camellia bush offers hope.  But it’s still frosty cold some mornings.   Last week we had snow and this weekend we might have snow again.  Not quite winter, not quite spring.  In between.  And lent feels in between for me too.  40 days in the wilderness.  Confusion.  Mystery.  A time for self-reflection.  Like a bulb:  still in the darkness, reaching for the light.

I have an amazing friend who knows how to find the best in every situation.   She is a walking example of grace, compassion, namaste.   When she journals she isn’t likely to scribble out her frustrations and anger and vent. Instead she goes directly to the heart of the matter:  she finds the positive and writes about that.  Horrible, terrible day?  She writes five ten things that were good.  Let down again by the person who should have always been there for her?  She remembers and celebrates and thanks them for the times they were there.

Wait, I know what you’re thinking.  “Pollyanna!”  But that’s not her at all.  She’s savvy, wise, thoughtful.  The friend who inspires me to open my heart, but also warns me when I should watch my back.  She’s real.  I’ve even heard her complain…once or twice.

Dear friend I am so very grateful for you.  I learn from you everytime I see you.  I’m a better person for knowing you.  If only I’d know to ask for a side of wisdom with my hamburger and fries all those years ago.  Thank you.