We took a walk in the rain yesterday, then got in the car and drove around Cudahy, WI for a bit. Suddenly, I see this house on a corner, and we have to pull over so I can take photos.
Tag Archives: photography
Justifying Decisions
There’s something I do sometimes that drives Steve nuts. I know it, and I’m trying to stop, but it seems to be a deeply ingrained habit. He asks me to make a simple decision about something, and the first thing that comes out of my mouth is rarely my true feeling about it. It’s either, “Well, we could do that….” or a few practical reasons to do something, none of which is genuinely revealing. It’s like I’m protected my deepest self, the one that really wants something particular. I imagine this is a coping strategy that arose from being Daughter #4 in my family of origin. I probably didn’t experience much success simply saying, “I want that!” so perhaps I tried to come up with smart sounding reasons why giving me what I want was good for the general public? Maybe. Maybe the rejection of my true attachments was too painful, so I would pretend to be interested more in logic, which would appeal to my father. It’s an interesting head game, anyway.
It came up again this morning, as I was thinking about how to justify something that I’ve wanted for more than a year. I want a new camera. I have been using a little Lumix that I borrowed from Steve’s aunt. I had a Canon AE-1 which my husband bought for me when we were dating in high school. It lasted 30 years, and then a gear broke down, and I couldn’t advance the film. So I moved onto the digital point-and-shoot camera, but I’ve dearly missed the ability to focus manually with ease and get really sharp pictures. What’s been keeping me from just buying a DSLR? This weird thing I have about justifying what I want. I never buy anything for myself until I can think of a few practical reasons or some really sentimental reason that will please someone else. Pretty neurotic, actually.
The breakthrough this morning was that I thought of the last bit of rationalization I needed to move forward. It’s not enough that I just want a camera. It’s not enough that I am turning 50 years old in a week and a half and a birthday present to myself is due. It’s not enough that I have the money because I’m still only earning minimum wage at my seasonal job. It’s not enough that I’m planning to take a lot of pictures on my upcoming 3-week trip, and I want them to turn out well. What got me over the hurdle was thinking that Jim, my late husband, would have bought me that camera in a heartbeat. On credit, even if he didn’t have the money. The first camera he bought me was still working fine when he died. I can hear him now, “Look, dear, the life insurance money is for you, from me. I want to buy you a new camera. It would make me happy.” It would, I’m sure. And he’d throw in all kinds of extra gadgets just for fun. A macro lens. A carrying case. He was that kind of guy, generous and spontaneous to everyone, including himself.
Why do I struggle so with offering up a spontaneous decision when I’m asked?
Do Something and Do Nothing
I would like to change the world. I would like to see less violence involving guns. I would like to see more wild and rural land reclaimed from developed areas. I would like to see more tolerance and listening and compassion. I would like to see more curiosity and play and wonder and less capitalism, competition, and greed. I am never going to be an “expert” at anything, and I don’t want to market myself or make disciples. How can I make an impact?
“Integrity,” Steve says. Know your vision and live it. Don’t be afraid to do something and don’t be too busy to do nothing.
I can imagine myself being afraid to do something because I don’t have enough information, or I haven’t figured out exactly what the “right” thing to do is. I will never know the perfect solution, but I don’t have to settle for inaction. I can imagine jumping on some band wagon and stumping away at a project because others are encouraging me, without thinking critically or allowing time for observation to inform me. I can imagine myself feeling obligated or slipping into habit and just going on and on. I don’t want to do any of that. I really want to live out of a peaceful center, spontaneously responding with integrity to the issues that I face. And I want to be able to accept the fact that I may not be noticed…and that I may.
I am a visual person, too. I like examples, illustrations. Who lives like this? Gandhi. Thich Nhat Hahn. Pete Seeger. Anyone else? You tell me.
Humanity
Curiosity, creativity, collaboration, compassion.
Spontaneity, self-esteem, self-reliance, morality.
Ignorance, competition, capitalism, aggression.
Complaint, dogma, habit, paranoia.
Love and appreciation.
Ego and aversion.
Open.
Closed.
I observe humanity, myself included. What’s been in the news and on my mind? Landing a roving data-collector on Mars. The fatal shootings at a Sikh gurdwara here in Wisconsin. (My sister is a Sikh.) Drought and global warming. Conversations with Steve about who we want to be, how we want to live, what risks we are willing to take, what new modes of being we want to develop. Trying to see my inner self and assess it with honesty and compassion. Hoping and yearning for my children. Monitoring my energy.
We are living. We claim and generate energy, all the time. The flow of that energy is governed by our choices. (Ours and other living things’, although we humans are the ones who make cognitive choices. Plants, animals, planets and cosmic particles participate in that flow differently.) We are responsible for our choices. Are we looking carefully and critically at those choices? Are we blaming some other source for the results of our choices? Are we even aware of the results or do we look the other way?
7 billion people. We are making an impact on the Universe. Do we like the results we observe? Can we do better? Can I do better?
Living Inside Out
Denholm Elliott in the Merchant Ivory production of “A Room With a View” portrays one of my favorite wise characters. I love the scene at the pensione when he’s trying to convince two women unhappy with their accommodations to take his room which has a view.
“I don’t care what I see outside! My vision is within. Here is where the birds sing! Here is where the sky is blue!”
He is gesticulating with his dinner fork, poking himself in the heart all the while. Sometimes I need a good poke in the heart as well to wake up that inner vision. I find myself feeling bored and peevish, discontent with my fortune. Why a traffic ticket now? Why didn’t I get that early bird discount? What am I supposed to do with myself when it’s 95 degrees out, I’m wearing a tight corset, I’m at work, there are no visitors to talk to, and I’ve got no chores to do? Why am I feeling so stuck?!? Because I’m not taking responsibility and I’m not living from the inside out. I am waiting for the outside world to stimulate and satisfy me.
And the outside world would love to take over that job! There are a million things to distract and entertain and lead you from one external thing to the next. I spent 4 hours this morning at the Wisconsin State Fair, manning the Tourism booth in my 19th Century costume. A quick tour after my shift was all I needed to grab a lamb sandwich and some fresh roasted corn on the cob. I passed up all kinds of brightly colored, noisy stuff. I don’t need a chamois cloth or a giant roller coaster ride or chocolate covered bacon on a stick. They’re not really going to make me happy. I want to be satisfied from within, and I want that for my children. I tend to worry about their fortunes, too. How are they going to get a job? How are they going to pay off those student loans? How are they going to get around if their cars break down? I find myself getting anxious and peevish on their behalf, too. But really, more than catching a break, I want them to catch that inner vision. I want them to be able to be satisfied and happy and enthusiastic about life no matter what their outward circumstances show.
An inner life. Unassailable, regenerating, like solar energy that continues for millenniums. Do we even teach our children to cultivate that anymore? How are we supposed to have a moral compass if we don’t? How does a nation of outwardly motivated and distracted people develop a moral compass to guide their democratic process? I wonder about these things…..
Where Am I?
Ever go walking in your own neighborhood and take a new turn that you’ve never taken and find yourself wondering what world you’ve stepped into? In my town of Wauwatosa, I discovered that there’s a 420 million year old limestone reef tucked away behind an industrial site…used to be a quarry. I wandered down there after a rainstorm last week. I saw stuff I didn’t expect to see…
…even though there’s no access to the reef just yet. We can all be travelers, even within a 5-mile radius.
Playground Photos
Earthbound, solid structures surround me. My eyes shoot upward toward the moon. Life is so much more than my immediate environment. Hard and colorful outlines are surely blurry and insignificant when viewed from that other orb. I must remember this. I freeze the thought in a frame…and wish I could expand the edges to infinity.
Walking After the Rain
Rain changes everything. After 4 weeks of drought, it refreshes the scent of the earth and the color of the grass. The corn leaves uncurl and look fuller, too. Here are some photos I took after (and during) a good thundershower on Thursday.
I posted a photo of this same porch about a month ago. The difference? Now the pots have flowers in them.
Hooray for folks who own and care for historic houses in my neighborhood!
Cloud in a puddle. Sounds like the name of an old recipe.
I hope your weekend is refreshing you!
Thank You!
I was so excited to see this view from my front steps today:
Rain! Glorious rain!
We’ve had a few really good thunderstorms lately, after no rain at all for 4 weeks. I was so happy that I ran down the sidewalk yelling “Thank you!” to the Universe. Then Steve and I took a good, long walk around town for about 2 hours. I will share pictures over the next few days. I love the smell of rain, wet earth and wet wood. I love the feel of a cool spray coming through the open window in the middle of a hot night. I don’t even mind getting up to lower the windows to protect the books from a drenching! Looking forward to a good, cool sleep tonight…
Adventure!
The season for Old World Wisconsin ends in October. Steve and I are gearing up for a 2-3 week road trip. We have about 9 possible itineraries, National Forests and Parks mostly. We’ve come to call this “our trip to metaphorical Maine” because although Maine is one of the top contenders, it is really just serving as the title of an unknown eventual destination. This is how Steve prefers to travel, and he is teaching me to appreciate the spirit of living in the moment rather than planning for safety and control. Not that Steve is an “extreme” kind of guy, a risk-taker for the sake of it, or anything like that. It’s really more a Zen kind of thing of being aware of conditions as they arise and dancing with them rather than putting on blinders and sticking to a railroad track.
We recently borrowed the DVD of “The Sheltering Sky” starring Debra Winger and John Malkovich. I’m sure the book was better, but the film has some terrific cinematic landscapes and brings up a lot of interesting questions. Like, “What is the difference between a tourist and a traveler?” A tourist wants the comforts of home. A traveler seeks adventure. I recently had a conversation with a co-worker who talked about a visit to France and only mentioned that there were no bugs or birds and that French waiters substitute Sprite for lemonade. This guy never thought he’d leave the country in his lifetime. Maybe he shouldn’t have!
I feel like I have been working on my personal demons (neuroses, grief, all that baggage) and have gained some courage and self-confidence since our last big trip. I did have one memorable meltdown in a rest stop off the highway in the pouring rain from about 2-4 in the a.m. That was April of 2011, and we were on the road for 4 weeks. Here’s a shot taken somewhere near the Colorado River in Utah that illustrates one of the many decision discussions we had. Do you want to take this road or not? Why?
scillagrace 