from darkness into light
i can’t remember a time when i wasn’t taking pictures.
to be fair, i only remember snippets of life before third grade, but after that, i remember a camera. it was a thin blue rectangle from fisher price with a splash of yellow, a black shutter button, and an attached flash.
the other day, i asked my mom how old i was when i got my first camera.
she said i was seven.
i am thirty-seven years old, so i have been taking pictures for three decades.
and yet, somewhere on my computer, i have a draft of a story in which i found myself bouncing on my rebounder while crying and repeating over and over again, “but i don’t want to be a photographer!”
when i followed the thread of that cry, this is where it led me.
during all those years i was taking pictures of the world around me, i wasn’t really taking pictures at all.
i was trying to hold onto the vision of the world i wanted to live in – a world of beauty, of possibility, of joy, of radiance, of love, of wonder – in the only way i knew how.
as you know, i grew up here.
after college, i ran away. far away.
i said it was because i was cold, and i wanted to be warm, but that wasn’t really it at all.
i ran away to escape the life i thought i would have if i stayed.
it was a life that didn’t seem like me at all.
what i really wanted, even though i didn’t know it then, was to be happy.
even if i didn’t think it was possible.
even if i didn’t know how.
but i am a seeker.
and sometimes, what you are seeking will find you, even if the journey is long & winding & arduous, and often makes no sense at all.
as i drove east, one of the things i wondered was this: will i be able to be me, in a place where i was never really me at all.
it turns out that returning to the place you ran away from, even after finding yourself, is challenging + illuminating + healing.
and if you are in any part of that journey – in the wanting to run away, in the running away, in the being gone, in the returning – i am sending you so much love.
You are discovering that the world you live in is not so much the location you live in as the state of mind you live in. (I miss typed love in instead of live in. On second thought, perhaps it was not a mistake.)
I agree. Not a mistake at all.
Oh… had a little cry with this one. “…to escape the life i thought i would have if i stayed….it was a life that didn’t seem like me at all. what i really wanted, even though i didn’t know it then, was to be happy.” I can relate to this sooO much. I think that’s part of what motivated me to move abroad, to take a chance, take a chance on the love I was finding, so many things… I sometimes wonder if I could still be the me I am now where I’m from. This year feels like returning for me on many levels, it’s been unexpected–and it is definitely challenging and healing. Jerry is right–ti’s more about stated of mind than location. :o) This so spoke to my heart. Thank you, as ever, Elizabeth for sharing your heart here! ((HUGS))
families used to all live in the same town… or down the block… or even… in the same house. but all the time i grew up
we always lived far away from our families.
so … other than my little gram who often lived and moved with us for a long while…
the marine and i grew up knowing none of them really.
no connected feeling.
now i think that’s why i don’t want to leave here. even though
i don’t like the climate. it never rains. it’s hot and dry and flat.
and yet… my marine is here.
and that is enough for me.
it makes up for everything that is not here.
some might find that sad too. and not very brave or adventurous of me.
but i find small happinesses now.
and they are enough.
thank you for sharing glimpses into your soul here. they are always welcomed.
and beautiful.
xo
Tammy: It reminds me of the phrase: love makes a house a home. And bravery + adventure come in all forms, not necessarily in the going somewhere new. xo
Tracy: So glad your journey brought you to love. And sending love to you, in this year of returning.