Note: All my photographs are free. They are not watermarked or identified in any way. You are free to use them in any way you wish – screensavers, prints and it give me much joy to think of them sailing from here out into the world, hopefully to brighten a morning, an office, or a day.
Photography is a great gift to me, it has helped me see the world anew, and look for the color and beauty that are all around me, and which I was often too blind to see. And to remind me every day just how beautiful the world is, and how magical is the light that appears each day, different every time I see it. My photos all began as love letters to Maria, then seemed to me evidence of God whispering to me, now a testament, an affirmation, a response to the people who lose heart and hope, and who see the world as a sad and dangerous place. A call to life. Renew thyself. Every morning.
I was deep into my life before I realized three things about fear. It is a geography, a space to cross, not something that is actually real. The fear itself was generally worse than the things I was afraid of, and caused more harm. Also, that I was almost always afraid of the wrong things. The things I feared almost never happened, while I was never afraid of the truly awful things that did happen – losing control of my life, my first marriage, my perspective, connections to some of the people I loved the most.
I decided to come to terms with fear. It was, I thought then, a battle, although I do not see it that way now. I did see that fear can kill a life, smother a life, choke it off and leech the love right out of it. Fear is a loveless state. It kills creativity, hope, promise and change. A long lost friend who lives in a very expensive condo in Washington e-mailed me a very depressed message that he hated his work and life, but could not change it. Why, I asked? Because, he said, he is the health care. He is the mortgage. And he was terrified of losing either. There it was, I thought, this bright and creative man a flame flickering, a creative spark, about to go out.
I also became aware that our culture is so often supportive fear, bombarding us with warnings, requirements, expenses, machines. And so rarely supportive of hope and promise. I took pills for fear for years, panicked about my life, avoided responsibility, handed my terrors off to willing hands.
I see now that what I should have been afraid of was losing my life, becoming a flickering flame, living a loveless existence, an aspiritual life, trapped in other people’s notions of what a life ought to be. Trapped in fearful notions of what a life ought to be. I see now, even though it is sometimes a struggle, that fear is more destructive than almost anything it evokes, including health care and mortgages, and the bad news that swirls around us like some greedy and ephemeral whirlpool. It is hard to avoid it, difficult to ignore it, wearying to avoid succumbing to it.
It is hard to deal with fear, and lonely, too, sometimes. Every day people tell me the things they are afraid of. The news, the weather. Democrats. Republicans. Global economic collapse. The economy. Armageddon. Terrorism, the world awash in spirits inviting me to come along. They are everywhere, telling me how old they are, how weary, how fearful. How they have to pay their bills, buy their health care, keep the mortgage. And every day I smile, and say thanks, but no thanks. That is not the story I choose for me. I am so grateful that whatever befalls me or happens to me, that is not the way my story will end.
Simon and Rose are working things out. Rose sits above him watching, and there was no trouble. Meg chimed in by jumping on Simon’s back and taking a ride. Sometimes things get strange on the farm.
When Simon came to the farm this Spring, his ribs were sticking out so far the vet thought he hadn’t eaten in weeks. That has changed. Simon eats Tortellini, Clementines, garbage, hummus – the chickens have to fight him for food. This morning I gave him an orange – he loves oranges and mashes them up. I swear he greeted me with a smile when I showed up with the garbage he shares with the chickens. There is not much that Simon will not eat. He does see to be smiling here, and I confess I kissed him on the nose after I wiped the drool off.
