I’ve been away from blogging, well, because real life got in the way. That is often the question, do you live life or write about it? Do you enjoy the view or fumble for your camera? Outside of that, when you forget your camera, do you berate yourself or, really, just enjoy the view?
When we were away for vacation this summer, we did just that—forgot our camera. Yes, there was a little berating that also went on and then lots of enjoyment. Our son came up with a story that he had heard during summer camp. The instructor wanted to take a picture of a villager or gypsy—think someone exotic—but when he asked permission, the man refused. The man’s answer was that if a picture was needed to remember him, then he really wasn’t that special. He hadn’t made that much of an impression.
During that week at Cape Cod, we discussed if we should buy a disposable camera, but as the time went by, we made the conscious choice to just enjoy the view and not worry about documenting it. We tried to share that “gypsy’s” belief that if the image and memory didn’t stick with us, well, then it hadn’t made that much of an impression. We did have a few moments, especially at the beginning of the week, when we’d see something great and someone would voice the wish that we had a camera. It reminded me of what my husband used to tell me, “Just because you don’t have a picture of it, doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen.” As the week went on, we all enjoyed the freedom of just experiencing and not worrying about whether we had captured the right shot.
On the whale cruise, it was much different from the year before. Then I had seen most of the whales through the camera’s viewfinder. This time, I stared out over the expanse of water and watched mom and baby surface. I watched the setting sun and listened to my children banter. I didn’t worry whether I was capturing the exact, best moment.
Do we do this to ourselves? Worry about being exactly perfect in the moment? Worry so much about what we should be doing or saying that we lose the joy of the moment? Do we critique ourselves versus celebrating the world around us?
As you pursue these writing exercises, don’t write so much that you don’t live. But if you are finding it hard to lose yourself in the moments, then do take time to write your thoughts. Sometimes to enjoy life around us, we have to be able to enjoy ourselves. To accept the world outside, we have to accept our inner world. To be in the moment, we have to have dealt with some of our memories.
· Use the prompt “What keeps me out of the moment is…”. If you find yourself stuck in your description, then write that sentence starter again. See where it takes you. What is holding you back from enjoying the moments at hand?
· Watch around you and see if there are moments or scenes that you would capture if you had a camera. You don’t need one, just remind yourself about the full moon rising behind the sand dune or the tide pulled so far out that it feels as if you could walk half-way across the ocean. Notice the butterfly landing on the flower next to you or listen as your dog sighs contently in her sleep. Write a list of two or three images that you can capture from the day that reminds you how fabulous our world is. Discover in your own thoughts, how fabulous you are.
Now, go, Write On!
Martha Peaslee Levine, M.D.
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