Be Still

18.03.12 personal

March 18th.

A day followed by March 17th – St. Patrick’s Day.  March 18th is typically a day of recovery for those who partied too hard on the 17th.  A day when the streets are littered with trampled green shamrocks.  A day when bar employees clean up the remnants of sticky green beer.

But for me, as of three years ago, none of that has ever been on my mind.

You see, two years ago, on this exact date, my world was rocked.  Perspective was given.  Love was affirmed.

And now, every year, I have unofficially made March 18th Be Still Day.  A day when I celebrate one of the most amazing mountaintop experiences that has ever occurred in my life.

I continue to share it with you for a couple reasons.  1.) Because this is my heart.  This is the deepest part of me.  This is the core of who I am. And 2.) God has used this story in powerful, impacting ways with readers and I hope it touches you.

***

I set out on a two-week journey to Sweden and Scotland, my camera as my only companion, to simply “be still and know.”  I wasn’t sure what I meant when I left, nor was I sure where I’d end up… to be quite honest.  All I knew was that my desire to just BE was insatiable.  I could hear Him telling me just to BE STILL.  To stop.  To quit moving through life so quickly.

I remember my first site of Iona as I arrived early in the morning on what we know as St. Patrick’s day.  The chilly wind blew directly in my face as I held onto the white, paint-chipped rails of the ferry boat.  I could never image what this little island and remote abby would hold for me.

After getting settled in my B&B, I set out exploring the isle of 150 people, its vast farmland and sheep, and its pride and joy: the Iona Abby.  I’ll never forget walking into the empty, stone sanctuary of the 1200AD abby.   Feeling frustrated with my journey to “be still” I knelt in prayer and asked for forgiveness.  Nearly a week had gone by and the only being still and reflection I had done was, well, was none.  I was too distracted with all that is solo-travel and driving on the other side of the road.  I set out on this journey to reflect and hear what the Lord had to say to me.

I felt like an imposter.

And so I knelt and asked the Lord for forgiveness and some focus to really open my ears and heart during the following two days in Iona.

Whispering a tearful “amen,” I got up and exited through a different door.  What I saw next nearly swept me off my feet.  I’m not sure I would’ve believed years later if I hadn’t had my camera with me.

Awestruck and totally flabbergasted, I just stood there and stared at the bench in the distance.  A minute or two passed by and I approached the bench a little closer, sitting down on it.  Feeling like I had just sat in the comforting lap of my Father.  Feeling the wood with my hands, I smiled a big smile and lifed my tear-streaked face to the heavens whispering, “You are so good, God.”

Affirmation.  That’s what He’s in the business of.  I knew when I saw that bench, I was exactly where I needed to be.

The next day, was one of those moments you see in the movies.

After a windy morning cooped up in my bed and breakfast, I decided to bear the elements and get some exercise. Heading out for a jog, I planned on running to the north beaches of the Isle of Iona.  Only a mile wide, by three and half miles long, and a population of only a hundred and fifty, Iona rests on the western coast of Scotland.  With the perfect soundtrack accompanying me, I ran north along the narrow, one lane road – one of the three roads, or rather paths, on Iona.  Small, white farm houses were sprinkled on either side of me off in the distance.  Not a soul around.  Green pastures were the majority of what surrounded me, though along my right side the ocean kept up with my every step.  I couldn’t stop thinking about how perfectly the teal blue of the ocean complimented the soft green of the earth.  With the wind pushing at my back, I ran strong for a while, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ocean I knew lay ahead.   Eventually, I came to the end of the road, with no where to go but through a small gate that led into yet another expansive green pasture, this time roaming sheep dotted the landscape.

In awe of the vast green that surrounded me, I eagerly ran like a child through the pasture, perfectly manicured by the sheep. The wind was picking up, causing me to run ever faster.  I knew I was approaching the ocean, but was unable to see it due to a large hill in the distance.  Nothing around me but a dark, stormy sky, a serene pasture, ocean to my right, and a few munching sheep;  I smiled as I ran, laughter and giggles bubbling out of me.  Finally, I caught a glimpse of the ocean in the distance. Dodging and leaping over large piles of dung, I reached the summit of the hill that had been blocking my ocean view.  Panting, I took a deep breath in through my nose, the moist ocean air filled my lungs,f as I laid eyes on one of the most gorgeous scenes I have ever seen.

Wide-eyed and grinning, I exhaled slowly through my mouth and drank in the view before me: a soft, lime green valley below that opened up to a rocky peninsula, capping the end of the island.  From there, deep, aqua blue water as far as my eye could see and crashing waves surrounded.  In the distance the ocean’s spray blew off the smaller waves and evaporated into the misty air.  The perimeter of valley along the shore was lined with tall, uneaten grass that danced in the wind just as quickly as my excited heart was beating.  I can only imagine the light of elation that sparkled in my eyes as I took a several strides down into the center of the natural amphitheater.  There, in the middle of it all, I stood.  In awe.  Overhead, the threatening, black clouds padded the scene and the cold wind didn’t cease.  I had to lean back quite hard to keep from giving into the wind’s force, but I didn’t care.   The sight was breathtaking.  I felt as if my heart was going to explode with joy.  Tears rushed to my eyes and spilled over, running down my cheeks and onto my smile.  With my body quivering in the strongest wind I have ever felt, I instinctively extended my arms toward the heavens and worshiped.

Up until the day before, I was frustrated with myself.  I felt like an imposter – traveling to a foreign land to seek peace and serenity to “be still and know that God is God.”  What does that mean anyway?  To know that God is God?  I admit, I wasn’t quite sure I knew when I left; I just knew I needed to be still and the rest would fall into place.  And in that moment, it was easy to be still.  There He met me.  I couldn’t help but stand in awe.  In awe of God.  In awe of His beauty.  His earth.  His love for me that is as deep and as wide as that ocean that stood before me.  My spirit, something with which I had never truly engaged or acknowledged, was alive and taking over.  I was soaring in a way I have never felt before.  It was my spirit, not my flesh.  And so there, on the north shores of Iona, I sang.  Uninhibited, my spirit sang and praised Him.

I wish I could better describe to you what this moment was like.  I’m not the best with words, which explains why I’m a photojournalist.  But just know that I was transformed.  On a teeny, tiny spot on the map, I was transformed.  The lens with which I view this world is pretty different.  In that moment, I became wholehearted.  I can’t really explain it any better than I had a wholeness restored in my life.  With no external influences surrounding me, I found affirmation and completeness that were secure in God.  His presence of love, peace, and joy was all that was there.  I know it sounds crazy, but I could have died in that moment and been completely satisfied and fulfilled.  I needed nothing more.  And so there I stood.  Still.  And listened to his basic truths wash over me: that He is good, He feels, He loves, and He knows all.  I couldn’t stop thinking of this resounding joy in my heart – how I wished everyone could experience this kind of joy.  I prayed for way to spread this joy to others.  I prayed for my family.  I listened to Him tell me, “I love you René.  I’ve brought you this far and I will never let go of you.”  And I knew, without a doubt in this whole world, that God is God.  What that phrase meant was undeniable.  And that knowledge was enough to keep my heart dwelling on His majesty forever.

May you find His peace, his shalom, wherever you are today.

With love, joy, and peace,
René

A Town of 32,001

12.03.12 personal

It’s about a 7 hour drive from here.

Where he lives, that is.

It’s a small town.  Not necessarily in its population, but its culture.  The kind of town where men, regardless of their age, still hold the door for ladies, tip their hat and say, “Ma’am.”

And you know where men tip their hats for ladies, they also wave when you pass them on the open road.  If you haven’t seen it, you haven’t driven seven hours to see someone.  It’s a friendly nod and typically a two-fingered wave while the other three fingers still hold the steering wheel.  :-)

It’s a town where you feel millions of miles away from the rest of the world.  Where places like London and Mumbai seem like dreamlands.

Instead, destinations like Wagon Mound and Texico are just a couple hours away.

It’s definitely a long drive to the middle of nowhere.  I don’t know if you’ve ever been.  But I have.  Several times.

If you haven’t caught on yet through the vague Tweets and Facebook posts, my sweet boyfriend and I live almost 500 miles apart.  We’ve been together for over three years now and a new military assignment has taken him to New Mexico.  The Land of Enchantment.  <Insert thick sarcasm here.>

So there we were having dinner at the nicest restaurant in town. (Chili’s.)  We had just spent the day working on his new house – a bit of a fixer-upper if you will.  Picture this:  my hair in a bun, pants rolled up, rubber gloves, even the medical-lookin’ mask on my face that keeps you from inhaling chemicals and germs.  I had just finished  scrubbing the heck out of the bathroom (which was followed the scrubbing of his kitchen cabinets, windows, and floors).  When I was done, I rounded the corner and headed down the hall to where he was doing some surgery on an electrical outlet.  He looked up at me and laughed at my mask.  I held my rubber-gloved hands away from my clothes so not to drip and smirked at him through my mask, ”You’re taking me out to a nice dinner tonight, right?”

So there we were at our nice dinner at Chili’s that evening.  We were waiting on our meals and holding hands across the table.  Making eyes at each other.  And I?  I was blushing.  You know…  It’s the way everyone acts at Chili’s. And that’s when he started thanking me for my hard work.  For time spent driving down to see him.  How I’m such a great teammate.

“Thank you for coming all the way out here to this little town of 32,001 to see this ‘ol goober.”

I smiled and and assured him “goober” was the furthest thing from my mind and then asked, “Thirty two thousand and ONE?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “And one.  I’m here.”

:-)

That’s my man.

**********

So tell me, I’ve got another 500 mile road trip coming up and I’m dying to know what are your favorite road trip songs?  I need to refresh my list! Which, if you’re interested, you can see my favorite playlist and download it from here.   

** Leave a comment with your favorite song and we’ll be drawing an iTunes gift card for one lucky participant. 

For the First Time

06.03.12 our two cents, personal

Brace yourself.  We’re about to get very real over here…

Here’s the thing: we’ve come along way in the last five years.  You’re bound to after that long.

From yellow photos we thought were beautiful to how-the-heck-did-we-ever-not-white-balance photos.  From nasty, contrasty, harsh black and whites with no detail to perfectly even shades of grey.  From images that, let’s face it, make you cringe to those that make you feel… happy and peaceful.

I’ll admit it:  I’ve been a little discouraged lately.  Or at a low.  It seems as though there’s always something better out there.  Someone better.  Some better way.  And you… you are amazing.  Blog comments pour in with accolades.  Emails from viewers and photographers.  Facebook messages.  People pouring their hearts out to me. Daily I am blessed by such beautiful comments and virtual pats on the back. Yet…

Yet, this whole time I’ve felt insufficient. An impostor.

So the other night, I did something that I wasn’t terribly excited to do in fear of getting even more discouraged.  In fear that everything might look. the. same.  That it might be uninspiring.  That I might wish I was someone else.  A better photographer.  A better writer.  A better  me.

The other night, I went through nearly every blog post from 2011 and many from 2010.  And you know what?  After hours of perusing hundreds of images and Pinning my favorite images, I realized something.  Pleasantly surprised and greatly relieved, I realized something.

It was like I saw our work  for the  first time. 

At the risk of sounding completely inflated… I was impressed.  Our work wasn’t as dry as I made it up in my mind to be.  Nothing looked the same.  The lighting wasn’t as terrible as I always thought it was. The truth is…

…we have captured a lot.  A LOT.  From tattooed brides to birds of paradise to junk yards and white sandy beaches.  Nearly every type of personality you can imagine from infants to the elderly of elderly have crossed our lenses.

Sure, the compositions and posing might be slightly similar from this post to that one, but the thing is… no post contains the exact same you.  Every person, every  s o u l  is completely different.  When I look at those images I see stories.  I see heartache.  I see trails overcome.  I see your love.  I see our friendship.

And it’s YOU who makes it whole again.

It’s YOU who makes this crazy dream of ours worthwhile.

It was like I saw our work  for the  first time. 

I am proud of our work.  I am proud of how far Jesie and I have come.  I am proud of that silly 1 bedroom apartment that I used to work out of.  I am proud of every moment I’ve kicked the dirt and sighed, “How’d they do that?”  I’m proud of every time I’ve struggled to get through a shoot… when I’ve fretted about one thing or another…. lighting, colors, chemistry.  I’m proud of those times I’ve failed.  When I’ve thought, “They’re going to hate these.”  Every time I’ve tossed the camera in Jesie’s lap and asked, “Is there anything good in there?”

I think I finally understand what Henri Cartier-Bresson meant and felt when he said your first 10,000 photographs are your worst.

And I also have found new understanding in looking at the big picture….. and not letting the 1% ruin the 99%.

So, if you’re just starting out at anything… photography, writing, knitting, college, just remember: it takes a little time.  But the good news is, nothing stays the same for long.  And never underestimate the power of a break.  Of time away.  To recharge and reflect and come back and see your work for the first time. 

Press on, friends.

Love,
René

One Step Ahead

10.02.12 personal

Yesterday I was driving to a board meeting and somewhere along the way, say southbound I-25 and Rockrimmon, this obnoxious ad came over the radio from Pro Flowers.

Extra, extra!  Valentine’s Day is next Tuesday and the price of flowers and roses are going to SKY ROCKET!  Get yours now!  Flowers!  Valentine’s!  Double the prices!  Call now!  Visit our web site! Type in this code!  Valentine’s!  Roses!

Et cetera, et cetera…

About this time I turned down the noise and thought to myself, “I wonder if John remembers that it’s V-Day next week.  He’s really busy and plus, guys don’t think about this stuff like girls do.  It’s just another day.  Maybe I better just drop a few hints here and there so I’m not disappointed and he doesn’t have to scramble to prepare something last minute.”

Got it.  ”Drop Valentine’s Day Hints at John”  It was on my mental to-do list.

Fast forward two and half hours later.  I’m driving home from the board meeting.  I round the corner fixated on my garage door to see if it’s open yet (yeah, I like to see how far I can get with my remote), when a giant lime green box on my porch catches my eye.

I know that lime green box.

It comes every birthday.  Every anniversary.  Every Valentine’s Day.

Yet unbeknownst to me, I always forget about it.  Even though that lime green box comes every birthday, every anniversary, every Valentine’s Day, I never come to expect it.

So when I saw it I knew exactly what it was and my heart did a little jump in the air and clicked its heels.

And you know what’s funny…

As I pressed the gas pedal to pull into the garage, guess what ad started again on the radio?

The Pro Flower ad.

I love it when he’s one step ahead of me.

You’re the best, baby.  Thank you. :-*