What You Might Otherwise Ignore

"What gets lost is the idea that photography might force you to spend time looking at what is in front of you, noticing what you might otherwise ignore."

I read this sentence only recently in an article (read it for yourself by clicking HERE) talking about how the instantaneous nature of photography nowadays threatens to take away the experience of photography and more importantly the experience of life. This helped to explain my occasional urge to dust off my old Pentax, carefully snap some film into place, and attach my favorite lens which used to belong to my mother. Sometimes all that furious snapping away with the digital point 'n' shoot feels a bit mindless.

....until I slow down and use the camera cupped in my hands to help me see what is really there, what could get missed. Sometimes it takes me awhile to see what's really there; sometimes it takes a series of shots to find the beauty in the weeds, the hints of glory in a dying and decaying world. And I've said it before,

"...that's when one learns what's in a photo...even if you're still unsure about how to take a really good photo. You begin to learn what it means to take meaningful photos of your family and the world around you. You learn to see things differently, to recognize the beauty in things that you've never noticed before. You learn to isolate from the chaos the serene."

If there really is a slow photography movement, then maybe there is, or also should be, a slow life movement. I'm not saying I'm gonna clear down my schedule, wipe it clean, and lay on my back staring at the clouds all day. There's a place for that every now and then and learning to say "no" is a good thing. But that's not what I mean.

My to-do list for homemaking tasks alone will always be longer than what I have time to accomplish. And you know what? That's really okay. But hurrying through it all, driving a titch (okay, more than a titch) over the speed limit, plowing through my children's childhood, snapping through the moments in a frenzy just leaves me with a pile of flat, lifeless moments, like a pile of flat, lifeless pictures.

So what is the antidote? What is the anti-busy, the serum against the venom of fast-food, fast-photography, fast-life? How do I see, feel, hear, smell, experience.....what I might otherwise ignore?

Does it really start with something as simple as thankfulness? Does finding the little things to be thankful for really help slow my pace and help me take it all in?

After a few months of finding, counting, naming, listing the little moments of God's grace wove into my existence, I think it may very well be the key. For when I intentionally point out to myself the little things that bless, I find more, I see more......I experience more. Those things have always been there but that doesn't necessarily mean I've really noticed them, really allowed them to penetrate my dry soul. Those moments aren't just fate. They aren't just the collision of a few haphazard occurrences in a larger than large universe. Those moments are seen by God, allowed by God, directed by God. And unless I intentionally sear those moments into my heart, capturing the subtle nuances of all His light in each pixel-like second, I am left dull, an under-exposed, quickly snapped photo of a life.

So with or without my camera in hand, I want to see what I might otherwise ignore.

I am so blessed by and so thankful to God for:

#111. the super yummy homemade chicken pot pie given to us by a friend for no particular reason
#112. the delectable homemade monster cookies given to us by the same friend
#113. two little boys who let me cut their hair (some tears were involved on their part) so that I could do something to release all this "I-must-help-this-family" energy
#114. the friend is "home"
#115. the friend meeting us at the door without his walker (even with his wife insisting that he get his walker)
#116. the hubby and the friend hugging
#117. the friend giving me a hug, too
#118. two little boys acknowledging each other by patting each other on the arm before going their separate ways
#119. the smell of homemade bread
#120. my little boy asking for "more squash please"
#121. my little boy having one really good morning after so many challenging ones
#122. making peach pie with my little girl
#123. high temps 40 degrees higher than last week; it's 20 above zero!
#124. two little blond heads
#125. 4 little hands trying to knead bread dough
#126. a simple stew on a winter night
#127. the horsey-ride-with-daddy tradition after supper
#128. building a fleet of spaceships with Duplo blocks with the tots on a quiet Sunday
#129. juicy oranges
#130. chillin' out with the hubby on a Sunday evening watching a few episodes of Mythbusters