Hello, sweet souls. I hope this finds you in the middle of a beautiful day. ♥
Something Susannah wrote a few weeks ago has really stayed with me, it’s made me think and re-evaluate a big chunk of the last six months of my life.
On her birthday she shared 40 lessons she’d learned over 40 years. I read her post slowly and often because so many of the lessons she listed are things that I try to remember, but forget. It was the eighth one that tugged at me the most.
Take photographs every single day. Snap the things that catch your eye, the faces you love and the moments you want to remember. Records the bits of your day that you might forget — in years to come you’ll love this glimpse into your routine.
I thought when I quit my old job I’d be happy, finally, magically, irrevocably happy.
And I was, for a while. A significant source of stress and misery in my life was removed, completely. Permanently. I was free and I rode that feeling for a while.
And then… I wasn’t free. I wasn’t happy. I was only lost.
When I think now about when I was in the dark place, deep in depression and filled with anxiety, I see that I paid close attention to the things that brought me comfort: curling up under a blanket, scratching Beanie’s little back, wearing soft clothes, drinking warm drinks.
I listened to the little voice inside of me that knew what it was that would make me feel, if not better, at least not worse. And if I did the same thing over and over, it didn’t mean that it wasn’t working, it meant that it was.
It was when I was inside of the small moments that I found peace, comfort, healing.
It was when I was in the small moments that I could breathe, lift my eyes up, feel safe.
What I learned then but can articulate now is that I got tied up in the what ifs and the worry and fear and the life plan that got off track and doing that reinforced all of the doubt and pain and broken heartedness.
And I learned that when you find your peace, your center, in the small moments, you can begin to heal.
Where your attention goes, your energy flows.
Bringing it back around to my sweet Susannah, the words in that lesson that stayed with me were the moments you want to remember.
Because even when I was at my lowest, there was still beauty.
Because even when I stayed silent, I still was comforted.
Because even when I felt utterly alone, there were still moments I wanted to remember.
I still felt wonder and joy and laughter, even if it was muted and diminished.
The small moments were my baby steps to healing.
But I didn’t have photographs of what I was doing the first moment I noticed ease in my heart, of what the sky looked like the first time I woke up and smiled when I looked out of the window, of the day the thought of leaving the house to eat messy tacos made me feel excited instead of trapped.
These were Big Deal Moments. I want to remember them. I want photographic evidence of these small moments.
The other week I got a Droid, downloaded Instagram before I even left the store and have been obsessively documenting my small moments since then and I want to share some of them here, with you.. (If you want to see them all, you can come hang out with me on Instagram by going here.)
Dear Susannah. Thank you for helping me to heal even more. Thank you for getting a camera back in my hands. You make a huge, beautiful difference.
Wishing you peace,