I may not be ready to start blogging again and I may not be ready to start shooting again, but I have experienced a few things recently and I can feel them stirring up something inside of me...
1. I got to experience the bees that somehow helped this man to heal after losing his daughter, Jocie. (Thanks Dean & Lisa for letting us in on that little part of your world.)
2. I saw my kids through the eyes of a mama who missed them desperately after being away from them for five days.
3. I sat up until 3:30 a.m. talking (and drinking) with eight friends/past students and as the night progressed, our conversation progressed into the most meaningful conversation I've ever had in a group setting. Blame it on the alcohol, blame it on the late hour, or blame it on the company, but it was beautiful and made me realize that while I flail with small-talk, I thrive in conversations that matter.
4. I sat in a bathroom stall crying and praying before teaching at the Click Away event in Salt Lake City, only to be greeted by four rows of past students all sitting at the front of a room full of people who were waiting to hear me speak. I'm not sure I've ever felt more supported or cared for and I love each and every one of you guys for sitting there all eager-eyed and smiley-faced, even when I went 90 minutes over my allotted time.
5. As I was typing up #4, I got a phone call from my step-mom saying that my dad had a heart-attack and was in the hospital. And so I just got home after spending most of the evening in a waiting room with the kinds of thoughts racing around in my head that help put all of life in perspective. He's going to be fine, but I don't want him to just be fine, I want him to be changed and I want to be changed too.
6. My friend, Marilou shared this in my forum today and when I saw it, I knew it was too good not to pass along to everyone I knew. It meant a lot to me when I saw it, but after the events of the day, it means even more.
And here's what he said that I want to stick to the walls of my heart...
Be happy for this moment, for this moment is your life. But guess what?... This moment is going to be gone like this and all you're going to have left is that photo-filtered, vintage photograph.
All you're going to have left is how you choose to remember this moment. So you're given a pen, you're given a chance to decide how this moment will be remembered and I think that's fascinating. We all become artists, we all become architects of our mental narratives - of our historical digital paper trail. We decide who we are. We're building maps and those maps are subjective.
I don't think it's a bad thing. I just think it liberates our desire to be artists, our desire to be the authors of our own lives, and to decide how we remember things. To decide how we deal with the fact that every moment passes, how we deal with that tragedy, how we deal with that entropy. At least we're going to italicize the memory of it.
And so yes, the present is lived as anticipated memory because that's all we have is the anticipated memory. The present is gone. Its rich, but its gone.
And that haunts me, but we deal with it.