the gods were mad at me and i listened

2007-01-21T12:26:00.001-08:00

Yesterday my system crashed. I lost my files. My Aperture vault. Six months of photography. Beautiful work from Thailand. Pictures that could sell.

It’s heartbreaking. But what can I learn from that experience? Why did this happen and what can it teach me? The universe is giving me a lesson in humility. I have to work for these photos that come to me so naturally. I can’t just assume they will come without the work I put in perfecting my craft, keenly observing, and following through until that image finds its eventual place in my life and in the world. It’s one thing just to snap the button. It’s another thing to give birth to a thing of beauty, resonance, and heart-felt vision. I’ve been going through the motions of just clicking the shutter because it’s what I believe I love. But the careful seeing, the intentional setting of the dials to maximize the image, allowing the world to channel through the craft perfected. This I have never attained, never devoted myself to the study of perfecting what I do. Of being professional, being real, having enough faith in myself to put the effort in. To know that my eyes can see another plain of reality and, through a camera, communicate that to others.

So my computer crashed. My system drive become corrupted and all the 0s and 1s resumed their primordial formlessness, going back into the universe from which I gathered them. They are mine no longer and were never mine to begin with. I was their messenger into the world of space and time. Into the world of God incarnate, the visible, the human. And I let them down. I kept them trapped in my machine of 0s of 1s, of silicon and titanium. I ignored them. I didn’t appreciate them. I forgot their power, the moment of creation when they spoke to me, captured my intention and compelled me to push the button.

So what can I learn from this? The photos aren’t about me. They’re not for me either. They are a gift from the world of universal consciousness to the world of individuated ego striving always for universality, getting stuck along the way in the shallows of delusion, attachment and selfishness. But they got trapped along the way in me, a faithless messenger, a conduit blocked to itself. I took, but didn’t give. I allowed, but didn’t trust. I saw, but didn’t act. I felt, but didn’t believe. Now these images are gone from the world incarnate, but will live on in my memory. I can return to those places and take those pictures again, this time more keenly seen and felt, more expertly captured and more gratefully received. Next time, I will not waste the opportunity. I will not get stuck in my self, my stubborn incapacities, my arrogant reliance on talent alone and my refusal to put in the hard work of learning.

Photography, writing, communication—is something inside me, a gift I must accept with humility and dedication. Not something I can do here or there, when I feel like it, in a state of distraction, but something I most devote myself to heart and soul. I must be willing to make sacrifices—to commit and accept—to open myself to old longings and new techniques, to isolate myself from the world of distraction and material success and allow the inspiration to flow through me unobstructed. There is something to learn from all of this. I lost because I was not deserving. I was not humble enough. I was not committed. I turned away.

I intend to use this setback as a lesson, a knock on the door of my consciousness, a wake up call, an excuse for growth, a coming into being of my purpose, and an acceptance of the call of creativity and creation.

So let me declare my purpose here and now—I am committed to this work, to my vision of life, love and beauty channeled through words and images fully observed and carefully created, sung and shared with those around me. I am committed to being professional, to learning my craft inside out, to becoming a pure vessel through which the universal can flow unobstructed. My purpose is to use my talents and sensitivity to open others to the fullest expression of their beings, and to inspire awe and appreciation for the gift of life.

Next time the gods of inspiration come to me, I will be waiting with a clear head and open arms. I will be worthy.

meanderings

the gods were mad at me and i listened