Seeking Stories, Not Shots

I barely finished the words of my prayerful wish and suddenly the dark skies opened up and the most beautiful sunlight I’ve ever seen came washing through the valley, the intricate snowflakes dancing in the air became glitter. Suddenly, the echos of glaciers cracking passed through the mountain tunnels of ice and stopped their journey of sound right below my feet. I stopped breathing.

He heard me.

You know those moments when the world feels so wonderfully big and you feel so beautifully small? Humility floods in, followed by wisdom. Sight transforms into a perspective you couldn’t have had 5 minutes ago.

I had my camera in my hands on this particular trip to Iceland. But it ended up being a distraction in moments like this. This spot on the ridge was a mud pit the day before, today was a winter wonderland made of pure magic and blue ice.

Back home my heart was broken, shattered into a billion pieces, resembling dust if you blew too hard, because someone I loved so dearly had left earth to be made whole, my mother.

Grief had been quietly introduced to me as my mentor and I didn’t realize I had a standing appointment with this unforgiving beast for the foreseeable future. I had stress related illness in my body, a deep crack in my faith, and sickness in my heart.

But for the briefest moment, that all went away to let life in. The perspective I absorbed that left me different from that moment forward was seeing that light parallels the dark, weaving and dancing in and around each other. Always providing me with a choice on my perspective.

The sun warmed me for a total of 8 seconds, greeting me and then went as peacefully as it came. I ended up taking the shot, but it sorely paled in comparison to my experience. It’s brilliantly far from the best photo I’ve ever taken but it carries so much more weight because of what it brought with it.

My visual diary.