Switching Lenses

“Do you still enjoy what you’re doing?” I asked Theresa as she changed out camera lenses. “Funny you should ask. I have been re-thinking some things.” She replied. “Really, how long have you been a photographer?” “Well, I started when I was 17 and I’m 52. What’s the math on that?” I was intrigued, Theresa seemed so established in her work, why would she be “rethinking some things?”

While Theresa moved adeptly about her photography studio, checking lighting, adjusting backgrounds, she told her story. “This economy, it’s been hard on everybody. I just never thought I would have to worry about my livelihood. But when folks don’t know how they’re going to pay the rent or buy food, they sure aren’t gonna be paying for pictures. It’s been tough.” I shared some of my own experiences with professional challenges and we exchanged that look of mutual misery.

"I told Daddy just the other day, ‘I realize these last few years I’ve been grieving.‘ Mary, it just isn’t like me to be depressed. But I think between the digital age and the economy, this has all hit me real hard.” We stood silently shaking our heads in agreement. “But you know what, I’m getting ready for a career change.” My head popped up, “You are? What kind of career change?”

“Well, I’ve decided if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I’m taking classes on how to design websites. I LOVE it! I LOVE working with the computer! Imagine how great it would be to have someone who could design your website and take professional pictures to put on that site! Also, I’m teaching classes for folks who want to learn how to use their digital cameras better. Some for beginners, some for advanced. I have more energy than I’ve had in years.” Astounded, I stood watching Theresa, inspired by her ability to listen deeply to what life was offering her.

How often do we feel a sense of sadness over things changing, a desire to hold on to “what has been,” and struggle to find a way forward? Theresa’s story is powerful because she was able to shift her focus and allowed a fresh vision for her life, new possibilities, new adventure to come into the picture.

When I called Theresa to ask if I could share her story, she was surprised and responded, “Well of course. The way I see it, business is God’s gift to me to be given back. If something I’ve said or done will help someone else, I’m glad to be a part of it.” And then she added, “When I now think of the last several years and the despair they brought. There were days when I thought I was living through the worst thing possible. But you know, now I look back on where I was and where it brought me, to THIS day and I can truly say, ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’ We are always better after the storm.”

Practice: Changing Lenses

Sit quietly for a few minutes, either in your sacred space or outside in the open. Take a few deep breaths and scan your body. Is there a place where you are gripping, clinging, holding on tight? If so, place your hand there and simply breathe into that space. You might ask if it has a name. Silently breathe with the intention of releasing the clinging. If it feels comfortable ask yourself, “What am I holding on to that is causing pain?” Give yourself the gift of a few more deep breaths, feeling the heat from your palm on the spot you have located. Linger with this for awhile, breathing in, breathing out. After the tension dissolves, release it.

Take a few moments to honor whatever grief or sadness may have come up for you in this exercise. If there is something that is troubling you deeply, it may take a while for the sadness to subside, for you to be able to release your grip. Maybe you would like to close with a prayer. Here is an example or, or you may wish to create your own. “Loving Creator, thank you for your faithful, imminent presence in my life. I release to you this sadness (name it?) and commit to the intention of keeping my eyes open to the new paths that are in front of me. Amen.”