It seems that there is a plethora of options in how to begin a general, and well, very much personal “state of the union” narrative. All of the choices that have surfaced my noggin thus far have quickly been dismissed. The reason? There is just no simplicity to it. And really, I think that to be the case for most, if not for every single one of us.
March of 2021 finds me a little restless. An unsettled tightness in my gut. All the while what feels like a strong grip on the back of my shirt…holding me in this state of “pause.”
I have always been a researcher, a studier of alternatives, and very much one who pursues only the very BEST option provided a selection of choices. To a fault sometimes, I devote an enormous amount of energy into this always overriding goal: avoidance of regret. Further, I am an empath of the deepest sort. Therefore, with this pandemic chapter beginning, it was without question, I pushed my in-home sessions on the “another time” list. That “another time” whenever it may end up being.
While I wish that “another time” has long arrived, it just keeps lagging. All things positive, the light at this long tunnel is certainly surfacing. I like that…and a part of me believes that the itch I feel is because I can see that light in the distance.
I VERY much long to be behind a camera within people’s homes, capturing the little pieces that simply form the day and the very ordinary elements that we all find just that, quite ordinary. Most of these ordinary elements that sometimes surface again in moments of nostalgia but some that just one day, end before we’ve even had the opportunity to notice. The tiny stool at the bathroom sink, the go-to game at any given moment, or just all the things “they used to do.”
And to be super honest.
I miss the way it makes ME feel.
Using one’s passion and pushing it forth in acts of service is the very thing that prompts the most profound of “come to life” feelings. This is where, today, that unsettled tightness in my gut waves, and with an unwelcoming grin, says “hello.”
All of this to say not too terribly much…but just to say, hello. I’m here. I miss my people and I miss this scene. I haven’t been all that active on social media with the exception of scrolling in ways that, quite honestly, tends to fester my anxiety. You know, empath, heavy moral compass, yada yada. I devote a majority of my time right now to maintaining a sense of presence as a mom, which on the surface looks like driving around and making dinner…but much more deeply, it’s a constant soft place to fall and eyes that are looking right back at them when they share their struggles.
I can’t say that I’m in the deepest of dreaded funk and like you, I sure can’t say that I’m riding the highest wave. Not even close. I’m just rising and falling somewhere in the middle. Not comfy but just trying to put my best foot forward in attempting to keep overthinking at bay, to stay connected to others, find a little light in each positive, and thank God for each day I get to be a part of this adventure.
So with that, I’m armed with buckets of thankful thoughts that I throw out to you…yes you…the one who is still reading here.
I guess there is nothing else that seems more right and uplifting than to put on that Jr. Walker & The All Stars song “How Sweet It Is” and bask in some welcomed sunshine.
Keep pushing forth, my friends.
I’ve always had a fondness for this particular session. This was early 2019 and the message I received was this:
“I’m most interested in someone documenting my family, the four of us, getting ready in the morning for work and school. As I write this, my husband just took the dog for a walk. The eldest is sitting next to me contemplating breakfast. The youngest is struggling to get out of bed. At some point there will be a rush to find socks, then shoes. We’ll say our goodbyes with hugs and kisses. Departing in two vehicles.
When I think about these mornings, I love the routine and know it won’t always be here. That’s why I’m interested In photo journaling it.”
We made this happen.