Considering goals

So much has happened, and yet nothing has changed. I just noticed that my blog has not been updated since November, and that is a sin. How can I hope to keep my audience above 50,000 avid readers if I let things slide? For that, I apologize, dear readers.

December has been eventful, as I am certain that all of you can also say. I took an insurance course in Vancouver and received the highest mark in the class, 91%. On the first day Edith Strauss, the instructor, asked us to write down what mark we expected to get in the class. By stating our expectations in a clear, positive way, we exponentially increase our chances of achieving them. I wrote 95%, as I felt that was a believable level to aim for. Many people in the class didn't write anything down, and coincidentally, many people did not pass the course either. I don't remember which people failed or passed, but I believe that those who took action in the direction of their goals were the ones who passed.

Having goals are a fantastic way to shape our lives, to enrich our existence, and to squeeze more out of the marrow of life. Clearly stated goals give us a framework to see where we want to go, or what we want to do. But they are just a map; without the action of getting into the car and following the map, we remain suctioned to our easy chair, dreaming of what might be. Having said this, when I look back at my own existence, I am guilty of drawing many maps from the comfort of my own Lazy-boy, and not going outside to pursue them.

This year, I intend to reread some of the classics from my library: Think and Grow Rich, by Napoleon Hill; The Magic of Thinking Big, by David Schwartz; Cashflow Quadrant, by Robert Kiyosaki; The 4 Hour Workweek, by Tim Ferriss; the Power of Intention, by Dr Wayne Dyer; and Awaken the Giant Within, by Anthony Robbins. I'm open to suggestions too, so if anyone knows of a book that I just cannot live without, feel free to leave a comment below.

The image above was taken in Vancouver, during a break in the course.

I think I will be revisiting this topic in the next few posts, so if this interests you, stay tuned.

Being optimistic in today's economy

Today I took Abby for a walk. Not a long walk, nor the short, "fake" walk when I just need to check the mail, but an average walk. I was struck by how happy Abby was, sniffing all the posts, rocks and checking the Pmail. Sometimes, we as individuals need to check our ego at the door, and say, It is enough. It is enough to go for a walk and be happy. It is enough to listen to a piece of music and be moved by it. It is enough to....(fill in the blank) but the key is to be content.

But how to be optimistic in these times? Every time I login to CNN, or CBC News, I read about tragedy, or recession, or falling housing prices. I know that these organizations exist to crow pessimism from the rooftops, but like driving past an accident, I still look. How do I stay optimistic when I am looking for work today? When a part-time secretarial job posting can harvest 90 resumes? Am I deluding myself by trying to be optimistic? Is it as bad as they say? I struggle almost daily with that question, and tonight, Abby showed me.

I try to see the silver lining when I look at something. When I hear that house prices are down, and that it's a buyers market, I try to look further to see the truth. Yes, prices are down, but not across the board. Some neighborhoods are down, but others are up, and those don't get reported. I'm looking for work, in a bad time to be looking for work. All the signs in the Okanagan are pointing to a long drought economically, but is that true? Or is that what I've been seeing because I've focused on that? So much of what we do is based in fear, fear of losing something, fear of something bad happening, it is good to catch ourselves being fearful and to say, "Is that true? Or is that what I've focused on?" If the reality that we live in doesn't suit you, then change it. Change your description of an event, or focus on something else. I admire those that can do that easily; my natural lack of tact usually has me blurting out something that could have been better phrased. But if you practice looking up, you'll see the sun shining sooner than if you're studying your navel.

Abby could have set out on our walk, grumbling because it was too dark to see many things, or too cold to want to go longer, or that she hadn't finished her unauthorized nap on my pillow. But in a dog's world, a walk is something to be enjoyed, and so she left the grumbling at home when we left.

And so, I've decided to be optimistic for just a little bit longer. I choose to look for the sunshine, rather than the clouds. I choose to believe there is work out there, and that "My business will assume VAST proportions". That was an actual fortune cookie I got last week, and I saved it. And at the end of the day, if I was wrong, I haven't lost anything by being positive.

Inspiration

Patanjali was an Indian mystic who wrote the Yoga Sutras over 2,000 years ago. Over the eons, many have believed this man to be a saint, and he is considered as important in Eastern tradition as Aristotle would be in the West. I recently read a passage that he wrote, regarding Inspiration:

"When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds, your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great, and wonderful world. Dormant forces, faculties, and talents become alive, and you discover yourself to be a greater person by far than you ever dreamed yourself to be."*

Wow.

That is easily one of the most profound statements I have read in my life, and I would suggest that it is even more applicable today, than it was 2,300 years ago when he conceived it.

When I consider this in terms of my own small existence, I can reverse a bad mood or turn a good day great by the simple act of creation. Whether it be going for a coffee and sketching ideas on a napkin, discussing a killer idea for a series of portraits, imagining a home built from shipping containers, or developing a black and white print in a darkroom, that act of creation makes my heart sing. I feel powerful, imaginative, and I feel the self imposed limits that my ego has shackled me with slipping away. I feel connected to my destiny, and certain that I am on the right track. I feel determined, and absolutely sure footed.

I believe that to be inspired is to become closer to God. Our goal in this life should be to delve deep and to discover what it is that inspires us to create, and to pursue that. To find what it is that keeps you going long after the other employees have left for the day, or what it is that wakes you up at 4 am to start working on. This is different than motivation; I can be motivated to go to work at 4am because I'm in debt, but I may or may not be inspired!

I have become inspired recently to create a series of portraits. I am beginning a series of images of people who have walked away from a job, and become successful at what they love to do. I'm in the conceptual stage of this series, and I hope to begin it soon. I've had this in my mind for years; the first time I began, I realized to my dismay that at that time, I didn't have the skills to do it justice, and I shelved the project. In hindsight, a better alternative would have been to attack the project and learn on the fly, but everything happens in this world for a reason, and now is the time to begin.

What inspires you? How do you know when you are on the right path? What does it feel like to you? What do you create, and how do you feel when you have created? I've corrected the comments section to make it easier to post; feel free to drop me a comment if what I've written inspires you....

The images above are of Abby, just being inspired to be Abby.
- Kees

* From the book "Inspiration: Your ultimate Calling" by Dr. Wayne Dyer

Exorcising Ego

I haven't been blogging as much as I'd like lately, mainly because I haven't felt that my thoughts were worthy of publishing lately. That, and there is a black hole where Wi-Fi goes to die at my mom's house. Among the many positive traits I am developing, I regard ego-busting to be high on my list, as I believe ego gets in the way of living a humble existence.

This story began last spring, when Carl and I were discussing the Grouse Grind. Not hearing the warnings of the story, I decided that I too would like to be one of the proud, the elite, the few survivors to climb to the summit (or at least to the pub) of Grouse Mountain. The warnings were many, and involved pointing out the level of shape a person should be in, but I didn't hear those. I'm in good shape, I thought; hamburgers create fuel that I can use to climb easily to the top. Maybe I can even do it in under an hour!

Finding myself in Vancouver last weekend, I decided to phone Carl and see if we could go. As luck would have it, he was available last weekend (he'll be busier this weekend, but that is for another post) and off we went. As we left the parking lot, I still maintained a vision of reaching the top in under an hour, and having enough breath to converse about it. As we began a steep section, Carl was explaining that on flat sections like these, he usually attacked it to make good time. Wait, what? I wanted to ask him what he meant, but the air is really thin at Grouse Mountain, and I was having trouble disguising my gasping wheeze.

I soon discovered that he was right, but I was still enjoying myself, although the forest seemed very damp, the kind that soaked through clothes and plastered my hair to my forehead. We must have climbed an awful long ways up, as I was still finding the air "thin".

Before the halfway mark, I abandoned all hope for a one hour time, as we had already passed that. My gasping wheeze had become like a donkey braying, and I stood out against the granola munching mountain goats like Rita MacNeil at a yoga class. I valiantly struggled on against the thin air and my increasingly heavy shoes. After what seemed an eternity, I saw the halfway mark, and through the pounding drumbeat in my ears, I heard Carl explaining that meant altitude, not distance. That meant it was getting steeper, if that were possible.

I soon realized that it was possible, as I labored on hands and knees up the scree. The trail resembled the stairwell Frodo & Sam climbed on their way to Mordor, right before they met Shelob the giant spider. Carl bounded on ahead, taking photos, admiring the view, and generally enjoying the afternoon, and I laboured under the weight of a thousand hamburgers. At long last, we reached the summit, and had some sandwiches. At this point, it is critical to rehydrate the body to prevent any damage from dehydration, and a hefenwiesen worked quite well in that regard.

This has been a long post, but the point of the story is this: life is made up of moments that we remember, and when we look back, we see a series of moments stretching back into the grey fog of distant memory. This will be one of those moments for several reasons: it is always good to get out with friends to enjoy Canada's wilderness, and I am grateful to Carl for providing this opportunity. It is also good to have a more accurate view of one's general condition, and not the invincible view that Ego gives us. This allows us to more accurately judge whether or not we should be lifting washing machines or other appliances, or even to offer to help someone move! But most important, I spent a glorious afternoon hiking with a good friend I've known for over 25 years, and this I will remember fondly for many years.

Sitting in a pumpkin patch

Standing in a pumpkin patch. That was what I was doing on Saturday night. In different times, I might have been waiting for the Great Pumpkin, but on Saturday, I was enjoying the feelings of standing in a pumpkin patch. Waiting with my camera for the muse to come to me, being in awe of where I was standing, I started thinking of where I had come to.

I have come to the fork in the road, dear reader. I have been downsized now, and my future is much less clear than it was. With the world in economic turmoil, the planet in crisis, I sat down in that pumpkin patch, and reflected. And you know? A pumpkin patch is a good place to reflect, because it starts you off in the right direction. For pumpkins care nothing of Wall Street, pink slips, or gas prices. They care nothing for status symbols, or whether or not I own an iPhone. Nay, sitting in that field of gourds, I was reminded of bounty, generosity, and a general concern for whether there would be frost tonight. The reader will forgive me for taking a walk on the esoteric side of life to clear my thinking; I began by thinking thoughts of gratitude.

In times of struggle, or in times of good fortune, I believe it is always best to begin with gratitude. It is easy to be grateful for good tidings, to be thankful for a great meal and full belly, for a new car and a good job. That's a good warmup, like a pre-game stretch. What brings perspective is to look at your life - look at everything in your life - and to find a reason to be grateful for it.

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." - from Hamlet , Wm. Shakespeare; Act II. I believe this should be written on the ceiling of every bedroom in every house in Canada. Think of it - everything that has happened in our lives, we have labelled "good" or "bad", or sometimes "ugly"; but it is our thinking that makes it so. And it is within our power to change that label, so as to use that experience as a positive force or impetus. Our lives are a perfect balance of sights, sounds, smells and things, in a perfect harmony of what we can bear, although we don't always think it at the time.

The key to living a meaningful life is to feel grateful for everything in your life. Everything. The challenge is to look at the "negatives" and to see them for what they really are; neutral events we have classified as "bad". The next logical step is to see that neutral event as being a positive influence. On my right hand sits a ring, engraved with the words "This too shall pass." It reminds me that no matter what is happening, it will soon change. I have been given an opportunity now to turn photography from a passion into a career; from a daydream I had in 1996 into a reality in 2008. One of the more cryptic conversations I have ever had was with a photographer, in 2006. I can remember word for word his advice to another up and coming photographer: "Do you want to know if you can succeed? Then quit your job, begin paying rent on your studio, and get your wife pregnant. You will soon realize if you are succeeding." He looked at me and said, "Have you heard of the 80/20 rule? It applies to photography as well. Photography is a very good business - for some." (Here's where I expand on that). There will always be weddings, there will always be a need for portraiture, and there will always be a need for good images. Those that can provide them will be in demand, and in that regard, recession-proof. Flikr, Twitter, Uncle Bob with his camera - these are all real, but to a pumpkin, they are neutral. To a good photographer, they can be motivation to become better, instead of standing still. When I was photographing a wedding recently, having Uncle Bob (not his real name) off my shoulder with a newer, more expensive camera inspired me to shoot better; to watch my background even more; to animate my subjects even further; to play with my lighting even more carefully. And to be rewarded by his exasperation when his photos turned out differently than mine did was quiet affirmation that I have become better than I was. I'm not competing with him, but with myself. He was just a reminder to me to give it my best.

If anyone has any comments on this or any other post, I welcome feedback. I may not agree, but wonderful things can be learned from dissenting viewpoints.

- Kees

The books we read and the lives we live

Currently, I'm reading St Francis of Assisi, by Nikos Kazantzakis. It was a wonderful book, written 30 or 40 years ago, and based on the life of St Francis. So far, I'm around 100 pages in, and the main characters have just restored a church, gone naked in the town square, and been disowned by St Francis' father.

Ever feel like you've missed the point? Well, I do. I don't know if I'm just grieving for my gramma and being melancholy, or if I am actually this self absorbed, but I'm hurting. I watch what I say to people when they ask me how I'm doing, I smile and say, Oh its all right, but inside, I'm cold. Having someone close to you die, seeing them dying before you, shocks a person. I'm seeing my life in new light, the mistakes I've made, the successes I've had, the songs I've heard, it's all shaken up. I've measured out my life in coffee spoons, wrote TS Elliot, and like the character he was writing about, I feel unable to see the results once the curtain is drawn back. My life has been shaken, and now I am watching as the pieces fall back down. What surprises me is that things I thought were important, are not. Things I forgot were important, are important again. Suddenly, I am in a direct conversation with my soul, and instead of the little voice it usually has, that barely squeaks over all the distractions I place in my life, I am now listening to the roaring of a perfect storm. The only thing that hasn't changed is the love I have for my wife; if anything, I've told her more times how absolutely amazing she is. I catch myself sometimes just observing how beautiful she is, just being who she is.

When I look at my work as a photographer, I see it as absolutely essential that I continue. I see how important it is to do what I do, and how much of a lasting effect I can have by doing what I love. On church on Sunday, the pastor spoke of the Blues Brothers, and being on a mission from God, and I could relate to what he meant. I know that he was fishing for people to be called to do God's work, but I could still relate. But then when I look at what I do for a living, I feel sad, because that's not God's work. I feel the guilt of suppressing my dreams to make a living. I feel like such an unimaginable failure for not having the courage to seize the day, and to follow my dreams as St Francis in the wilderness. I feel the misplaced rage as I lash out at people that are still submerged in their own little lives, when they place importance on pedantic details that mean nothing. Getting to work 5 minutes earlier by tailgating me earns you a bouquet of fingers, all pointed up. People and their insessant worrying; cramming more and more into a day, and not knowing when enough is enough makes me want to scream. Making themselves so busy they can't hear the silence within; if they did, would they still do the things they do?

The image above was taken in Prince George, in a moment when my life's purpose seemed crystal clear.

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.