The tyranny of the urgent

Have you ever gone out and forgotten the important papers sitting on your desk? Or left the milk out on the counter as you left for work? Answered your phone while you were visiting with someone else? Ever been so caught up with the urgent things at the office that you lose track of what is important? Too often, the important loses out to the tyranny of the urgent. Two years from now, how important will that milk be? At the time, leaving a full carton of milk to go bad seems like a big deal. Sometimes, a natural correction flows into our lives, putting things in perspective. We laugh about how critical that sales meeting seemed at the time, or how important hairstyles were in the 80's, and we remember not to take ourselves so seriously.

What if you look back and realize that all of the effort you spent bustling around, rushing here and there looking busy, meant that you haven't been doing what was important, but doing what seemed urgent instead. How would you feel, knowing that you could have been spending time with someone close, you could have brought flowers home more often but didn't, you could have said, I love you but you didn't.

Last week, my gramma had a stroke. That natural correction puts a lot of things in perspective; career, job, family, debt, pets, friends... like throwing a deck of organized cards in the air and waiting for what lands on top. I found myself looking through photos I've taken over the years, and memories I've kept, and I realized that I had way more memories than photos. So many times, I kept my camera in the bag, couldn't be bothered to record what was happening. Suddenly, with an icy feeling, I knew I had regrets. Those moments are lost.

As photographers, we sometimes become numb to the importance of what we do for a living, and for a life. People scoff at our passions, or trivialize the nature of the work, comparing it to the trades as though one were better than another. They may even have a camera themselves, convincing us that they can do as good as we can. It takes a moment like this to realize how important portraiture is, and reaffirms my commitment to this art. But I wish that I had taken more portraits, and starting now, my camera will be ready.

I love you Gramma.