Journeying Home...

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.

- Maya Angelou

   Home is at the core of our being although we think it is something we will find "out there".

   We walk for most of our lives around the perimeter but at some point some of us stop walking around in circles and turn inward. It is like a light has gone off and we know that everything we have been seeking "out there" has been "in here" all the time...at the center of who we really are.

   For me, and perhaps other contemplative photographers,  our images become a kind of road map...sign posts along the way.  We don't need to know the way, we will be guided.  We try to refrain from asking, "Are we almost there?" like anxious children in the backseat of the car.  We know we will get there when it is time.  In the meantime, we will stop and read the signs.  We will even allow ourselves to take a detour from time to time.  It is all apart of the journey home...

 

Photography for the Second Half of Life...

   I think I inherited by photography gene from my father and my maternal grandfather.  Both men always seemed to have a camera in their hand.  My father, especially, seemed to be obsessed with documenting every facet of our lives...first on film and then in the hundreds of slides he took.

   I remember the first time I looked into the viewfinder of my grandfathers old box camera.  The image was upside down and somehow I found that fascinating.  This camera is one of his, I believe he got it from his brother, but I wish I had his old box camera.  It would be a constant reminder of how magical the photographic process really is.

   Being so involved with my digital family scrapbook right now, I can see and appreciated the need for documentation.  Without these photographs I would have no visual connection with my ancestors.

   I believe everyone thinks of photography this way in the beginning at least.  "I was there, I saw that, and these people were with me."  It is a very important role for the photographic medium and for some people, perhaps most, that is all it is and ever will be.  That is absolutely fine.  But for me, and some other contemplative souls, photography can be something more.  We all can't write books or poetry but we can all make photographs.  It is the most democratic of mediums.

   Now I look into photographs more that I look at them.  Through my journal writing I explore the why's of of my camera work...why this image at that time?  I've come to see the camera as an extension of something deep inside of me that I am only partly aware of but photograph by photograph I am coming to a more complete awareness.

   Now, I am well past the half way point of my life but I do look at the medium in a completely different way now.  Since I firmly believe that I am my photographs, long after I am dust people will be able to know a lot about me by looking at what I paid attention to.  Someone once said that to truly know a person, look at what is on their book shelf.  I say, look at their photographs...

  



    

Hidden within the Light...

   Ever since I learned of James Turrell's work with light, I have been fascinated with the metaphoric capacity of sunlight.  As photographers we are, literally, "writers of light." (Photon + grapha = photography) One of my favorite demonstrations in my art room when I was a teacher was to use a prism to break a ray of sunlight into a rainbow.  Children were always amazed that all the colors are "inside" the seemingly white light.

   Every sunny morning when I get up at this time of year, I am greeted by a little rainbow somewhere in the hall outside the bathroom. Finding it is a morning ritual for me.  The beveled glass mirror over the sink serves as a prism creating the stunning light show and sometimes, like this photograph shows, the effect is quite striking.

   Light has always been, across many cultures, the grand metaphor and I am a commensurate light seeker.  I use to joke that I was solar powered...without my daily charge of sunlight my batteries quickly deplete!  All living things reach for the light and I see that as an intrinsic soul searching enterprise.  Somehow we yearn for enlightenment and we are constantly walking that path whether we fully embrace the process or not.  It is built into our genes.

   Every time I see this little rainbow I think about all that is hidden within the light.  The symbols, the metaphors, the color, the life giving warmth.  After this long winter, being touched by the light means even more to me.

   You can see some lovely interpretations of this theme on my Pinterest board.  How does the light touch you?

Let the Light Touch You

A Valentines Day Message...Share the Love!

   Meet Emerson, my resident philosopher and my true soul friend.  Those of you who are pet parents know the special places these wonderful creatures hold in our heart.  He feels my pain and rejoices in my happiness.

   Now, as I journey with my contemplative photography, I know that there is more behind those soulful yellow eyes than some would believe.  The development of a strong empathetic attitude is crucial for me.  It effects how I look at the world and, I feel, it makes me more receptive to the images I am gifted.

   Feeling this profound connection with the living landscape is an important characteristic of the contemplative photographer.  You can never truly relate to something you don't first love on some level.

   Through my study of Taoism I have come to embrace the idea of sentience, the metaphysical quality of all living things that requires respect and care.   It is a very Celtic thing as well...to see the divine in all of creation.  It is also a philosophy that is central to those of us who advocate for the humane treatment of animals.

   When we open our hearts to these creatures we can begin to understand the character of unconditional love.  The ability to feel and show love is not limited to human animals.  In the West, the idea of sentience in non-human animals is an often scoffed at thing but that doesn't phase me.  I am very attracted to photograph animals and their complete genuineness is something I've long admired.  They are what they are and they don't pretend to be anything else.  Humans could use a bit of this truthfulness of spirit.

   I found a board on Pinterest that celebrates sentience in the animal world.  The images will make you smile and also, I hope, bring a new respect for these creatures.  Put aside your skepticism and embrace the empathy.   This board of photographs of animals, great and small, displaying real emotions will make you feel good down to your toes and isn't that a great thing?  Happy Valentine's Day...Share the Love!

Sentience

  

Red Sky in the Morning...

Red sky at night,

Sailor's delight.

Red sky in the morning,

Sailor take warning.

   ...so goes the old saying.  This particular morning I was just able to get a glimpse of Nature's warning before the sky completely clouded over.

   The flame color peeking through the trees was much more striking than this image implies.  (Can't get them all "right" can we?)  It did give the impression of a distant fire illuminating the sky behind the trees.

   Sure enough, a big snow storm was coming the next day.  I smiled, isn't it thoughtful of Nature to give us a "head's up"!   Time to stock up on ice melt.  

   There are many other ways, far more subtle and less poetic, in which Nature tries to inform us.  That is really the whole basis of contemplative photography...listening for the messages of the natural world.  Sometimes, like that morning, it is a warning of things to come.  Most times it is just the soft and reassuring message,  "Rest here for awhile...all is well."

   Try to enter into a closer companionship with the world around you and see what subtle whisperings it will impart to your waiting heart.  If you want to gather it into an image that's fine.  Just listening intently and thoughtfully is perfectly alright too.

 

A Sense of Urgency...

"So many flowers...so little time."

   As the days grow shorter and the nights become cooler, there is a sense of urgency around my home in Maine.  The little chipmunks that live in the stone walls behind my house are furiously "to-ing and fro-ing" gathering in their winter stores.

   I've begun my autumn chore of  putting the garden to bed although, as I write this, there has yet to be a killing frost.  Most unusual for my neck of the woods.  Years ago we were happy to get through Labor Day without a frost...now it's Columbus Day.

   I spare the late blooming sedum and the wild asters from my secateurs...they are the bees last chance to gather life giving pollen to sustain them over the long winters months of snow and frigid temperatures.  They'll need it too if the Farmer's Almanac is correct in predicting heavy and early snow.

   I worry so for the bees.  They, like so many of the earth's creatures, are in peril.  Mainly, I fear, from the hand of Man.  Our climate too is being altered by our greed for fossil fuels and over production.  Some say that in the next century the Northern ski slopes here in New England will be unsuitable for skiing...not enough snow.

    Yes, there is a sense of urgency in the wind, on so many levels.  It is hard not to despair at times.   Here is a video for you to watch and to consider the plight of the honey bee.  Maybe it's not too late to help out our little friends.  Please post this on your Facebook page...spread the word!

The Dance of the Honey Bee

 

The Path You Take...

   There are always choices.  The journey we make, the path we take, is up to us.  

   Some prefer the safe track; the smooth and well delineated way where their feet will never get muddy and the path is clear.

   Others prefer the meandering and slightly obscure path.  Where the track is uneven and the way can be challenging and uncertain.

   I photographed both these paths on my trip to down east Maine.  Pathways was my word for the year and I love the way I keep getting subtle messages in the ones I've encountered.  These two examples gave me much to mull over. 

A Pitcher Plant

   The winding, somewhat muddy path on the right was a bit precarious to walk.  More than once I feared I may have taken a wrong turn.  There were no signs and I began to loose my sense of direction.  I wasn't exactly panicking but the thought did cross my mind that if I were to loose my footing and fall it might be some time before anyone came across me.

   The boardwalk on the left was a very easy stroll through amazing bog lands.   It was almost too easy.  Although I enjoyed my walk, the thrill of the unsure and the unknown was missing.  I think I prefer the subtle hint of uncertainty on my journeys.  Perhaps when I'm in my dotage the boardwalk will be my pathway of choice.  Until then I, like Robert Frost, will take the path less traveled and see where it takes me.

The Nature of Light...

   While I was flipping through channels the other night, I caught the end of a Charlie Rose interview with James Turrell on PBS.  Turrell is a contemporary artist that works solely with light.  He made an absolutely astonishing statement.  (This quote is from a EGG interview he did but he said essentially the same thing in the interview I saw.)

I mean, light is a substance that is, in fact a thing, but we don't attribute thing-ness to it.  We use light to illuminate other things, something we read, sculpture, painting.  And it gladly does this.  But the most interesting thing to find is that light is aware that we are looking at it, so that it behaves differently when we are watching it and when we're not, which imbues it with consciousness. - James Turrell    

   I must admit that this idea absolutely floored me.  That light has consciousness!  I'm not sure if I can wrap my mind around such a thing.  I'm also pretty sure that most physicists would have a really hard time with such a statement as well but let's play "pretend" for a moment.  What if light did actually respond to us.  What implications would that have for the photographer?  Forget photography, what impact would it have on everything we think we know about the world?  All of a sudden the idea of achieving "enlightenment" takes on a whole different meaning. 

   I do know that Albert Einstein did not believe in the theory of an expanding universe in his life time, a theory which is pretty much main stream today.  So, who knows.  I'll let the physicists and Mr. Turrell battle it out but I know one thing for sure, stumbling upon that interview with James Turrell has got me thinking and imagining in a whole new way.  I don't think I'll ever look at a beam of sunlight in quite the same way again and isn't that the whole reason we are artists...to open our minds to possibilities even if they seem, well, impossible?  After all, all revolutionary theories seemed impossible when they were first floated...walking on the moon? Ridiculous..science fiction!  This idea of a conscious light also puts a whole new spin on the contemplative photographers idea of "received" images doesn't it?  Just something to think about....

  

The Power of Green...

   Sometimes, it is hard for me to imagine that at one point a few years ago, I only did black and white images!  While I still love the softly modulated tonality of the monochrome image, my stroll around the Arnold Arboretum recently made me rejoice in the glorious color of a Spring landscape.  The lime greens, pinks and purples beneath the striking blue skies made me want to pick up my paintbrush again!

   This Texas Red Bud tree was a startling sight.  The small clusters of pink flowers grew directly out of the trunk as well as on the branches.  It seem a bit strange but suited the beautifully magical day.

   The red buds skirted a field of tiny yellow buttercups and between the two, the color palette was breathtaking.  There is much to contemplate when you look at natures handling of color.  There are no "bad" combinations...chartreuse and magenta are the closest of friends.  A painter friend of mine said that in nature it is the ever present greens that make all these colorful juxtapositions palatable. The cool green mediates the opposing, and possibly conflicting, color contrasts.  What is the "cooling green" element of personal and political conflict? I suppose if we could find that out we might be able to mitigate some of  the worlds constant turmoil.  Just throwing that out there for you to consider....

Tethered to our Beliefs...

   This image began as an "OMG" moment and ended in an interesting contemplative moment.  While I was in Eastport, Maine recently I noticed this young man repairing something on the top of a very tall mast.  Being somewhat daunted by heights myself, it was a stunning thing to watch.  Clearly, he had on a safety harness so a slip would not have spelled instant death but I was still awed by his skill and courage.

   After I made the rather hasty image, I didn't think much more about it until I was going over my files a few days later.  It made me pause...what was it about this sight that made me raise my lens?  It occurred to me, at first, that I was just gathering a tantalizing moment, like all tourists do but then I had one of those "Aha" epiphany's.  I realized that every moment, no matter how trivial or momentary, has the potential for contemplation.  There are no inconsequential, no meaningless images if one thinks about them enough. What attracts our attention has revelatory merit.

    Beliefs can work for us or against us.  If we pursue our contemplative photography with the belief that only certain kinds of images "count" then we will be hampered in our efforts to use photography to enhance our contemplative practice.  But if we believe, as I do sincerely believe, that every image has merit (and a message) then that belief will allow us to see our world with less prejudicial eyes and that must surely be a good thing.  This belief will give us our own safety harness in a manner of speaking.  We can't fall, or at least not very far.  It will give us, like this young man, the courage to take risks in our picture making.

Mindset - Heartset....

   I think the one major "take away" from the two photographic retreats I attended last month, one in New Jersey and one in Kentucky, is that there are basically two ways to approach the photographic medium.  You can approach it with a mindset, which is to say, a cerebral bent or you can approach it with a heartset, which uses a more heart-centered tack.  It is another way of describing a left brain/right brain duality.  Neither approach is "wrong" but each approach appeals, or not, to different people.  The simple fact of it is, we can learn from each other and our images will improve accordingly.

   My first retreat was populated by people for whom technical considerations were paramount...equipment, lenses, processing techniques, you get the picture.  I listen politely, you can always learn something, but pretty much kept my contemplative thoughts to myself.  That is, until someone began talking about a photographer whose approach to teaching had a sort of boot camp/survival of the fittest mentality.  On the first day he gave each person a box of camera parts and told them to "put it together"!  The thought was, if you could do it you really deserved to be in this large format workshop.  Frankly, I was appalled.  I've never been a proponent of teaching by torture. 

   The workshop in Kentucky was entirely different.  No one compared equipment or even talked about the "hardware".  It was all about perception and the "whys" of the photographic process, not the "hows".  I felt right at home with this group of people, needless to say.  Personally, I like a blend of both approaches; I want my images to look as good as they can be but, in the finally analysis, it is the content that matters most to me. Mindset photographers can, in the extreme, be a bit elitist.  Heartset photographers tend to be more egalitarian.  I can imagine what the first group in New Jersey would have said if I'd whipped out my I-Phone when we went to photograph at the Zimmerman farm as they assembled their (very expensive) large format box cameras!

    Every photographer, at some point, must come to terms with this duality of approaches (and this also applies to the processing of the image as well.)  Do the technical considerations override the contextual?  As one who tries to follow a Taoist approach in life I'd say, take the middle ground but follow the path that suits you best.  Just because you are following a different path doesn't mean you are lost!



  

Brother Paul Quenon, contemplative photographer and poet...

Listen to Brother Paul read his poems...

   One of the wonderful experiences I had at the Abbey of Gethsemani was my visit with Brother Paul Quenon.  He is a gifted poet and photographer who, as a novice, studied under Thomas Merton.  It had been my hope to meet with him during my time at the abbey.  I must say, it was an absolute delight.

   Brother Paul has been at the abbey for over 50 years but his ready smile and charming sense of humor made him seem much younger.  He was gracious in sharing his images and thoughts on photography with me on our first meeting.  What impressed me most was his ability to work for years and years in a single location.  He never tires of seeing the familiar surroundings of the abbey change from day to day, season to season, year to year.  For me, the world traveler, it was a humbling reminder that the contemplative photographer does not require new landscapes for inspiration, just an open heart and fresh eyes that see each day as a new beginning.  This should be an inspiration for all of us to re-examine the close at hand, the familiar locations near to home, in our own backyards, with sincere wonder and admiration.

   Brother Paul's poems and photographs are included in wonderful books that you can get from his publisher, Fons Vitae.   Monkswear is the one shown below, the one he graciously autographed for me.   Here is one of his most recent poems that he was kind enough to give me to include in this post.

My Last Poem

Other titles include Monkscript and his latest, Monkscript Two.

When I write my last poem
it will not say good-by
to poetry, but hello to itself,

will heave a glad sigh
it got into the world
before the door closed,

will look to its companion poems,
that it might have place
among these orphans,

that they might reach out hands
in company to go together
into oblivion or into memory,

or to some secret cove
where eternity sits, 
from time to time, and reads.

   Brother Paul  allowed me to accompany him and some visiting poets to Merton's retreat, the hermitage, the following day.  This was an especially rare treat as the hermitage is usually off limits to guests of the abbey and I didn't anticipate being able to visit it.  It was an experience I will always treasure, thanks to Brother Paul.  My impressions of that visit, and another of Brother Paul's poems, tomorrow....

Deep Play...

(dep), adj. (pla), n. 1. A state of unselfconscious

engagement with our surroundings 2. An exalted

zone of transcendence over time 3. A state of

optimal creative capacity

   I have always enjoyed Diane Ackerman's books (Natural History of the Senses and A Slender Thread: The Rarest of the Rare).  Her book "Deep Play" is the subject of this post.  It's the type of book you can pick up and read in installments and go back to over and over again for inspiration.

   "Play always has a sacred place-

some version of a playground-

in which it happens."

      If you love what you do then it is never work...that's how I feel about contemplative photography.  I play with my image making and while that might imply that I don't take it seriously, nothing could be further from the truth.  A deeply playful attitude allows for what Ackerman describes as "a state of optimal creative capacity."  If your mind is not obsessed with rules and "rightness" then it can be open to experimentation and the spontaneous.

   While it is true that I photograph in the city and other built environments, I am most at home in the natural world.  I feel more confined by rules in the city and I feel the freedom to play in the landscape...the landscape is my playground.

   "Players like to invent substitute worlds...Make-believe

is at the heart of play, and also at the heart of much of

what passes for work.  Let's make-believe we can shoot a

rocket to the moon."

   What has make-believe have to do with contemplative photography, you may well ask?  It is, I'd respond, at its very core.  Through make-believe we can imagine that our images are more than merely documents of the real world...in fact, we can imagine another reality that lays beneath the surface of what we see.  We "make" our photographs and then "believe" what we discover within them.

   So this weekend go out and find your playground.  Experiment, explore, play around with your camera.  If you would like some instruction in the process of photography as play, give a small camera to a 5 year old and sit back and observe. Take to heart (and apply it to your camera work as well) Plato's admonition...

"Life should be lived as play."

  

Doing and Being...

"Great understanding is broad and unhurried;

Little understanding is cramped and busy."

-Chuang-tzu

   Those who follow a Taoist path often point out the wisdom of animals.  I thought about that when I watched my cat, Emerson, sitting placidly in the sun staring out the window.  Animals know how to be still.  Only people see mediation as something they "do"; for Emerson, it is simply his way of "being".

Church Shadows - Madrid, New Mexico

   Photography can be like that as well.  You can chose to "do" it or you can simply live it.  It has become a state of being for me over the years...it seems as natural as breathing.  In many respects and at the risk of sounding a bit esoteric, I've become my camera.  I suppose the natural progression of this thought is to imagine a time when I will be able to dispense with the actual camera itself but I'm certainly not there yet...by a long shot.

   There are times, however, when I find myself slipping back into "doing"...when I worry too much about the technical aspects of the medium or the constraints of time and weather when on location.  Then I become, as Chuang-tzu describes, "cramped and busy" with it.  That never feels comfortable for me.  Fortunately, I've trained myself to recognize the symptoms of "doing" and I can step back, put down the camera and relax into the moment.  I can return to being a photographer and not just doing photography.  Then, and only then, am I able to make the kinds of images I need to make.

   Being a photographer is simply being an attentive and active observer of the world around me.  I search for the reality behind the reality...the message in the light and shadow.  I frame the world with the viewfinder of my heart for what I see is only a reflection of who I am.  Those who chose simply to "do" photography are detached from the process...they are the mind behind the camera instead of the heart. The next time up pick up your camera, try being instead of just doing.  I think you might be surprised at the result.

Recovering from N.D.D.

"We place our souls in jeopardy to the

extent we live apart form the richness

of the rest of creation...We suffer from

"nature deficit disorder..."

-Matthew Fox

   After an especially long and tediously repetitive winter of snow (17 inches fell two days ago!) and forced in-dwelling, my heart aches for Spring.  I truly am, in Matthew Fox's words, suffering from N.D.D. (nature deficit disorder).  Traveling south in a few weeks, I am hoping the Spring washed hills of eastern Kentucky will bring me fresh inspiration.

Springtime in my studio garden here in Maine.
How I long to see this again!

    I think what I love most about being a contemplative photographer is this on-going love affair I have with the natural world.  It is a revitalizing tonic for my winter weary soul.  The greening of the world is mirrored in my renewed determination to surround myself with Nature.

   It's not that I don't love the winter's whiteness and subtle shadows...my "Winter Etching" series is a continual joy... but there is something about Spring that lifts the heart in a special way.  One's own senses seem to prickle with anticipation. 

 "Spring is when life's alive in everything." -Christine Rossetti

     Join me in celebrating, at least on the calendar, the start of Spring and the Equinox.  Promise yourself that this will be the year you fully and truly recover from N.D.D.  Commit yourself to a daily dose of Nature's healing tonic.  Go for a walk in a lovely landscape and don't forget to take your camera!

"Sun and moon divide the sky,

Fragrance blooms on pear wood bones;

Earth awakens with a sigh.

Wanderer revels on the path alone."

Daily Meditations

- Deng Ming-Dao

Consider the Lilies of the Field.....and Magpies!

On the Brink of Beyond

"Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin..."
Matthew 6 : 28

    Yesterday I said I would, in future, consider the lilies of the field but what exactly can a contemplative photographer learn from them?  Well, for starters, stop working so hard for the "perfect" photograph...stop fretting over things that you can't control, like the weather...stop obsessing over the latest Photoshop program or what expensive camera is used by the latest media darling in the photography world.  Consider the lilies in the field.  They have perfect faith that what they need will be provided.

    A contemplative photographer needs that sort of faith as well...that their internal GPS will lead them to be where they need to be...that the image is there if they just look deeply enough.  Take this photograph for instance.  It was the end of an exhausting day of hiking and image making but on my way back to the car I saw something in this view that I loved...I wasn't so thrilled at what I saw in my camera's display though.  Not quite right but I was too tired to continue with it so it became, for the time being, one of those "throw aways"...an image that didn't make the cut.

   Much later, when I was wading through old images I came across it again and I thought, well, maybe I can do something with it, after all, I saw something in the scene...isn't that enough reason to look a bit deeper?  So I played around with it in my (very, very old version) Photoshop program and I was finally able to get an image that approximated the experience. Truth is, if I'd truly and completely been like the lilies of the fields I wouldn't have pursued the changes. You see, while there is much we can learn from the lilies, I like to think of myself as a bit of a Magpie as well.  In fact, my dear Grandmother use to call me her little Magpie. Insatiably curious birds, Magpies seek out shinny things in nature to take back to their carefully constructed nests...they admire these things, rearrange them and, never completely satisfied, go out looking for more.

   So, I guess the moral to this little story is, by all means, consider the lilies of the field but be also like the Magpie...have faith but be curious and persistent and never completely satisfied.

  

Certifying Experience...

"A way of certifying experience, taking photographs

is also a way of refusing it - by limiting experience

to a search for the photogenic, by converting

experience into an image, a souvenir."

-Susan Sontag

The Third Eye

       Photographs are the way our culture has of certifying experience.  I was here, I saw that, this person was there too.  Somehow, we feel that by this obsessive recording of the experience, no matter how trivial or fleeting, we have lived...and here is the proof.

   I think that is the real  appeal of social media sites like Facebook.  In small and inconsequential bites we get to digest another persons life experiences.  It is a voyeuristic and essentially futile endeavor.  We cannot know someone through these snippets of their day to day living anymore than we can understand our own lives through our vacation photographs.  We were there, we saw that and those people were with us...does it really matter?

   Yes, all those things, all those souvenirs of our lives contained in our photo albums or on our Facebook wall are important but only on the periphery of our existence.  It is important to know where we've been, what we saw, and who journeyed with us.  We must not, however, limit our photographs to the "photogenic"  but search also for the unfathomable.  In those images we may discern our deepest and most profound reality...I wondered about this, I was amazed at that, I was ever changed by it all...   

Solvitur Ambulando...

   Glastonbury Abbey has a stone edged labyrinth and despite the snowstorm, its outline was still visible.  Many of us on the New Years retreat took the time to walk its spiral path.  I particularly loved the little stone sign at the entrance, "Solvitur Ambulando...it is solved by walking".  I find that walking the labyrinth smooths the ground of my mind so when it is time for me to plant the seeds of contemplation, I will be ready.  A quiet mind is essential for the contemplative photographer.

Glastonbury Abbey Labyrinth

   What is it about labyrinths?  My experience at Chartres Cathedral this past summer got me hooked on the practice and when I looked for others in New England, I found a whole website devoted to the practice. If you visit this link, Labyrinth Guild of New England, you can read a short history of the labyrinth and access their listing of places where you can walk.  Wherever you live in the world, there is sure to be a labyrinth you can visit nearby.

   The one here at Glastonbury provides a sheet describing possible ways you can approach the experience but I especially like The Path of Mindfulness - "Walk in a way that brings calm, stability and joy with each step, deeply aware of what is going on within and without." (Thich Nhat Hanh)   Everyone brings to the labyrinth their own story, their own deep concerns but as the stone explains, "it is solved by walking." 

The Path We are On...

The Path We are On - Outer Hebrides

  I recently heard of an idea, which turned out to be one of those urban myths by the way, that our body replaces all the trillions of cells we have every seven years.  Of course, that isn't exactly true.  Some cells never die off, like the neurons in our brain, and some die off very rabidly and are replaced.  The point of this post is not to discuss biology but to mull over the idea that we are constantly in the process "reformation".  In a very real sense, we are not exactly the same person we were yesterday and in 7 years - if you want to use that time frame - we will be significantly altered, biologically speaking at least.

   Now that little tidbit of information/misinformation got me thinking about the old phrase, "the seven year itch". (This is how my mind works...one thing leads to another and another!)  I then realized that I had begun my re-discovery of photography a little over seven years ago in the Outer Hebrides.  I can safely say, cells or not, I'm not the same photographer today that I was back then.  I've been on a path of self discovery that has led me to where I am right now and, thankfully, the journey isn't over yet.

Janus, god of Gates and Doorways

   The beginning of the new year is a great time to reflect, and like the Roman god Janus (from whose name we get the month "January") we should look both forward and backward. I choose the photograph above for this post because, like the paths we are all on, we cannot see what lies over the hill.  Clearly, people have walked this way before (footprints are always reassuring) but there is always that apprehension of the unknown.  Do we keep walking or do we turn back?  Where we have been always seems safer that the unknown that awaits just over the hill and out of sight but without the mystery our lives would be a meaningless tedium of "sameness".

   Now, I must admit to a recently acquired "seven year itch".  I've been so directed to travel the last seven  years that it seemed as if  I am always planning for or just returning from some major overseas adventure...always traveling eastward.  Now, I've acquired the desire to explore closer to home...to leave the "big" trips for later.  I need a hiatus.  So, in 2013 I will plan a series of driving trips around New England and Eastern Canada.  The path I'm now on will take some sharp turns...North and South and West.  What will I find? What is waiting to be discovered?   Who knows but I'm itching to get going!