To most, this is a fallen tree. To my mind, at least this morning, and yesterday morning, this is a metaphor for life. Taoism says that that which is supple, is living. That which is rigid, is dead. The tree that sways in the breeze, or the storm, is the one that survives. The one that stands strong and refuses to bend, soon is uprooted or broken and dies. Architects build buildings and bridges that sway in the breeze for this very reason.

We, as a country, put a lot of faith and effort into being strong. Just look at this country. The only remaining “super power”. We have our hands in everything. We want our economy to be number one. We want our money to be number one. We want our education to be number one. We put lots and lots of effort into being number one, out front, rarely, if ever, yielding. Yet, with all of this effort, force, and rigidity, we are bound to break. As a citizen of this country, sometimes I adopt that attitude personally.

Lately, I’ve been getting a massage on a monthly basis. Last week, my masseuse said: Wow! Your back muscles are really tight. What’s going on with you? I told her that I had some personal issues that I’d been ‘dealing’ with. She rubbed the knots out and said that I needed to come back in a week and take at least a 90 minute session so that she could spend about an hour on my back alone! It really was tight.

A few days prior, I had been having ‘discussions’ and things were not going my way. I kept forcing the issue, trying to get things to go my way, which made sense to me; Eventually, rather than fighting the wind, I just hoisted my sail and went with the wind and let it carry me where it would. I felt a lot better, even though things didn’t go my way. The pain that had been in my back subsided, but I guess that the muscles remained tense.

Had she seen my on the previous Wednesday, she might have been really alarmed. I was in knots everywhere. She would have probably said that I needed a 3 hour massage!

So, this tree was a reminder of a lesson that I keep learning over and over. Bend. Yield. Be supple and pliant. Live. I hear it Tai Chi all the time. Flow. Redirect force, don’t oppose it. Yield.

At least the intervals of the lessons are further apart now because, sometimes, I really do get it. LOL Yet, sometimes, I have to be reminded, yet again, by a tree that didn’t bend in the wind, but stayed strong and broke.

Symbols of peace for me

We as humans are a species of symbols. Symbols, it seems, give us guide posts along the way. We attach arbitrary meanings to things. We love to anthropomorphize things, give them human characteristics.

One personal symbol for me is a rock. Rocks have always held quite a bit of interest for me. As a child, I would go to the woods, sit among them, climb on them, slide on them. They were fun. When I got older, I used to split them, look inside, polish them and collect them. I would marvel at the interior of the stone, trying to imagine its age. Thinking of how, over millions of years, sand, mud, leaf material, pressure, and whatever else, formed the thing that I held in my hand and how, through thousands, perhaps millions of years, it made it to the surface. Fascinating. On occasion, when I would split a rock, there’d be a fossil within. Jackpot!

Later, as I grew older, rocks became a symbol of strength and peacefulness. I love to sit on rocks, feel their texture, their coolness during the heat of the day, or perhaps their heat as the sun sets and they radiate their collected heat from the day.

I pass a little landscaped area during my walks near an apartment complex. It sits with the street running parallel to it on one side, a parking lot on the other. It’s just a narrow strip of landscaping, but, for some reason, early in the mornings, I find piece there. The street is not particularly busy at that time, and the sunlight falls through the trees and skates across the pine needles just right and comes to stop upon the rocks, making interesting and peaceful patterns, at least to my mind.

Well, today being Easter and having huge symbolic, and to some, literal meaning to some folks, the thoughts just popped into my mind about symbols.

We were having lunch and I mentioned that I was thinking, on the way up from the parking lot as the cold slapped and stung my face, that if any homeless person approached me and asked for money, I would give him or her the $5 that I had in my wallet. He asked: Why would you do that? Don’t you know that they could be scamming you, be going to buy a drink, etc.

I paused, thought for a moment and said: Yes! That is true. That could be what is happening, but what difference does it make to me? I offer it of my own free will and it just might help to make a difference in that person’s day. Also, when I look at him or her, I see myself. We are all walking along the edge. We could be in that same place next week, next month, next year.

How did they get that way? Were they a programmer making a good salary then hit suddenly with an injury, mental illness, sickness, a mistake that landed them in jail for just enough to make them lose their job? I don’t know their story, but I do no that I don’t need to have that story to have compassion for them. What’s $5 to me?

I think asked, what if it happened to you? What if, through no fault of your own, you lost your job, your health, went bankrupt. Then, when you returned to health, you couldn’t get a job because your skills had aged, or whatever reason and you were forced to the street. No one to help. What then? What if you hadn’t eaten in days and you approached me and I gave you $5, or bought you breakfast. Would that make a difference? He agreed that it would and that maybe he could look at things a different way.

The other day, I missed a perfect opportunity to help because I laser focused on the fact that I didn’t have any cash on me. An older gentleman in a wheel chair asked me if I could give him some money to get some breakfast. I told him that I didn’t have any cash, and I didn’t. Unfortunately, I didn’t think about my debit card. There are a number of places that I could have taken him and bought him breakfast. By the time I thought of this, I was already in the building and on the 9th floor. I missed the opportunity.

I’ll be ready the next time. It might just make a difference.

Feeling rather thankful today …

How cool is that to be able to go for a walk every morning with my dog. To be able to walk!

How cool is that to be able to hear the spirit-lifing cry of the hawk, daily, and the comforting sounds of a Mourning Dove’s coo on the same walk? To be able to hear.

How cool is that to be able to see the sunlight scatter and form a rainbow in the mist of a sprinkler, to see a hawk spread its wings and take flight, to see the sun rise most every morning? To be able to see!

How cool is that to be able to smell the ozone in the air after a thunderstorm has passed, or the musk of a skunk long passed? To be able to smell!

How cool is that to be able to taste the sweet goodness of a grape, or perhaps a bowl of cold watermelon after a long walk. To be able to taste!

How cool is that to be able to feel the sweat trickle off my head, down the back of neck, and down to my lower back. To be able to feel!

A huge feeling of gratitude befell me this morning and I just thought that I’d share those thoughts. In part, I have to thank Monte for his daily shots of things we often see, but choose to ignore, or perhaps don’t see at all. I really like his photography and where he’s coming from. It makes me stop and look at my own or helps me to appreciate other things.

In this post, I’m about to use a word that I’ve never used before, but have always wanted to: autodidact, so look for it.

The other day I was at, where else, The Peaceful Dragon. And, usual, the following folks were there: Robert, Carrie, Chad, and Jesse. These folks basically live there. I think that Sifu may need to start charging rent! Each time that I get there, I see at least 2 of them outside running, carrying heavy stuff, flipping this big ass tractor tire, or working out. Currently, they are training for a tournament in Baltimore, this weekend I believe.

I look at them and seriously admiring them for the commitment, sometimes thinking: How can I be committed like they are? One day, Robert said to me: Man, Paul! You are melting away. Every time that I see you, you look smaller. Of course, I smiled at this and he asked what was doing. I told him about the 20 – 25 miles of walking per week, the changes in the food, changes in habit; he knows how often I’m there, etc. In reading the book, Living An Extraordinary Life, by Robert White, he talks about commitment. He says that your results show where your commitment lies, regardless of what your words say. Sometimes, I doubt my commitment in certain things, or my ability to be committed to something. However, when I look at the results in various things, I have to cut myself some slack.

For the most part, I am an autodidact (there it is!). I’m self-taught in a number of things. School doesn’t seem to move at the right pace for some things. I’d rather experience them than to read a book. Things that were self-taught and I have been committed at:

1. When I got my first computer, a TRS-80, I learned BASIC, then when that was not enough went on to teach myself Assembler. This helped a great deal when I had an Assembler class in college. I breezed through it. I spent countless hours learning assembler.
2. When I picked up my first camera … well, you know the rest. That was 31 years ago.
3. When I wanted to become a professional bowler, I used to bowl well over 100 games/week. I did this for several years. Soaking all of my part-time money into bowling and gas. Great results, but not quite a professional.
4. When I learned C++, I would get up at 2:00 AM and study/practice until it was time to go to work. In short order, I became one of the best around the workplace. I shunned television and spent all of my time learning more about C++
5. This blog. Though I’ve slowed down posting of late, I have been going for 4 years. Amazing.
6. For the past 6 weeks, Hobbs and have been walking, 6 days/week, at least 1 hour, 15 minutes/day. I let nothing get in the way … not even work.
7. Save for today, I’ve not missed a single class at TPD! I will make up this class this week, so it will still count as 3 classes/week.

These things are examples, to myself, of my commitment to various things and show me what is possible.

I’m sure that you have many of your own.

I must say that the debate over the last few days was one of the most spirited that I’ve had on this blog ever. Much thanks to those of you who commented. When I woke this morning, I was thinking about tea for some reason. I no longer wonder why, I figure that the reason will be known eventually.

As I was doing a bit of light surfing this morning, after eating breakfast, I came remembered a Zen parable that I liked:

A Cup of Tea

Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.

Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor’s cup full, and then kept on pouring.

The professor watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. “It is overfull. No more will go in!”

“Like this cup,” Nan-in said, “you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?”

This is one of a very few Zen parables that I actually understand where it is pointing. Many are very simple in their statements, but profound in meaning. And, it was very appropriate for statements that I had made earlier. It was a great reminder to come to the table with an empty cup.

Again, thanks for all of your comments and the great participation. It was enlightening and gave me lots of food for thought. I shall be chewing on that ‘food’ for a while!

Near the end, Gordon showed up with some more tea. I had to empty my cup several times and, upon filling and drinking more, found that I liked the taste of some of the teas that were presented.

Fear to make a step into the Great Unknown because the fear to loose everything is still greater than the hope to win everything.

I found the above words in this post and the words were so stirring and rang so true to me. Sometimes, someone can just summarize things so succinctly and with such clarity that it leaves you breathless, or at the least, knowing, on some deep level that they spoke ‘truth’.

I was going to go into a post talking about my personal experiences with this, but I don’t think that I need to, the quote says it all. It’s something to think about … Do yourself a favor and go and read the post.

This weekend, as I walked around my former elementary school, McEbright Elementary, I was aware of a number of feelings. Feelings of nostalgia. Feelings of joy. Feelings of sadness for innocence lost. I wanted to keep these feelings alive because I thought that they would make a great project. Certainly, I didn’t want to slow down the process by writing. It’s too cumbersome.

I had been thinking of purchasing a digital recorder. So, I went to the only place that I was pretty sure would be open on Sunday morning, Walmart, and purchased a Sony 1 GB digital recorder for about $60 USD. It’s compact, very easy to use, and has a number of features to make organizing one’s thoughts fairly easy. You can organize your thoughts into folders: A, B, C, D, E.

After I made the purchase, I came back to the school, got back into the mood, walked around the playground, the building, and recorded my thoughts and memories. All through the rest of the morning, I simply pressed the record button to record any thoughts that I had. It’s a great way to take notes, etc. of those great, yet fleeting, ideas that you have along the way. I think that this will be my constant companion from now on.

When I returned, I sat down and, as I worked on my book and listened to the snippets that I had recorded. It was fantastic way to recapture those on-the-spot feelings that often soften and even disappear after a very short time.

The downside to this particular recorder, as well as other Sony recorders, is that it is a proprietary format and has only Windoze software available for it. There is no Mac equivalent that I have found. I did see a post on a forum of a work-around. Plug the output of the recorder into the Mac and record it directly to the machine. Yeah, it’s digital to analog to digital, but at least it will be captured on your computer. Also, I found in that same post that Olympus recorders are Mac friendly.

I can say that I would have bought an Olympus, if Walmart would have had them AND I would have known about the Sony Windoze-only issue. However, it’s not a show stopper. I’m glad that I bought it. However, I could have saved about $20 by getting a 512 MB model.

Another non-photography tool for the bag. I think that I’m now officially multimedia!

It had been on my mind for a very short time: Why didn’t I finish? Yet, it was a question that I easily dropped and continued on with life. I did not and do not consider it a failure. A so called failure is really a learning experience if you take the time to dissect it. One thing that I have learned is that questions are always answered, but not necessarily when and how we want them answered and we have be willing to hear and understand the answer, even if we don’t like it.

This morning I awoke about 6:00 AM. As I lie there, my body wanted to go for a walk. I tried to dissuade it, but it was not hearing me, so we went for a 40 minute walk. It was invigorating. As I walked, I listened to Eckhart Tolle’s book, A New Earth. This morning he was talking about being in the moment, as he is wont to do! Anyway, he was talking about creating gaps in thought streams by noticing your breathing, inhaling and exhaling. So, I fell into that rhythm as I continued my walk. When I got back to my apartment, it hit me suddenly …

I didn’t finish because I was not enjoying the process. I was so focused on the destination. I was no longer there just shooting, enjoying, exploring. The thoughts of doing something different, better, more clever than last year, of secretly wanting some external praise for my efforts, were foremost in my mind. I was in competition with a memory. It became a chore and the last thing that I wanted was another chore.

Last year, I was really into the journey. I was exploring a place that I had never seen and was giddy with excitement. I didn’t care what the final outcome of the book was. Of course, I wanted it to be nice, but that wasn’t important. What was important was exploring Van Landingham Glen, which I did and it is a place that I frequent now … still exploring.

I do plan on finishing the book, but it has to be at its own pace and it will most likely be done entirely with film. So, finally after a shower, my body says to me: Now, aren’t you glad that you went for that walk! Yes! I am!

What I’ve found the most helpful are sites where a photographer posts a picture and then walks through their thought process in choosing the subject, composing, lighting, post-processing, etc. That type of talk-through helps me see into the photographer’s ideas. I can accept or reject the outcome, but at least I know why choices were made. This in turn helps me rethink my choices when I shoot because I have new ideas.
–Scott C

This statement has been at the back of my mind for several days and now, as things bubble up to the surface, I think that I’ll make an effort to answer it. Certainly, this speaks to my specific ways of doing things.

I am an intuitive shooter. That is to say that if I feel something, which sometimes gets distilled down to a single word, I’ll take a picture of it. While framing, there may be a mental discussion on how best to convey that one word. That word might be: awe, funny, tender, sweet, amazing, profound, or a number of other words.

But first, I have to be able to really see it, whatever it is. Our eyes play tricks on us. If you don’t believe it, just go here and have a look! Having that knowledge, I think is one key to ‘seeing’. I realize that my brain seeks to fill in the details with what it believes should be there based on prior experiences. It sees labels and assigns prior knowledge to that thing: “That is a blackbird. Over there is a tree. There are some people fishing, etc.”. Basically, it’s telling me that I already have ‘knowledge’ of what these things are, so I don’t need to explore.

When I’m out, most times I try to form a disconnection between the label and the thing. This is accomplished quite easily, sometimes, if you are patient. Have you ever written your name over and over and over again? Soon, the letters don’t even make sense anymore. They become gibberish. This is the same thing that happens when I sit quietly in a location. First, when I arrive, it is Azalea Park in Summerville, SC. Next, it is a bench in a park. Next, some trees and a path. Next some light, shadow, and a breeze, etc. Then it starts to fade into a bunch of abstract things. Soon, I start to see only shapes, colors, and activities with no labels attached. I can feel this shift. That’s when the single words, more like ideas than labels, start to appear. That’s when the shooting begins in earnest. It usually takes me about 10 or 15 minutes to get there, sometimes less, sometimes more, sometimes it just doesn’t happen. Prior to that, the rest is just warm-up on the way to that state. I’m easily brought out of this moment. All it takes is a word or two from a stranger, which happens frequently, or perhaps a call on my cell phone. *Poof*, back to left brain mode and thinking.

Sometimes, simply staring at something causes this transformation. Staring at a puddle, for example, that has plants sticking out of it suddenly becomes an exotic island full of possibilities. This is letting the labels drift away. Perhaps you have done this yourself. Have you ever found a nice place to lie down and have a look at the sky as the clouds drift by? Suddenly, after a period of relaxation, they are no longer clouds but all sorts of other shapes. If someone distracts you and you try to continue to see that other possibility, it’s difficult. You’ve slipped out of that moment. Thought and labeling have resumed. Back to clouds they go!

As for post processing, that too is a different realm. Again, I’m seeking to portray an idea that I had, rather than an actual photo of some ‘thing’. Sometimes what I see during the shot and what I see during the post processing are quite different and I come up with a different intention than when I started.

About this photo and the process: When I first arrived at the park, it was my intention to take a few photos, read a bit, walk a bit, then head home. I sat on a nearby bench for a while, read a little, then moved over to brick wall just at the head of this small path and continued to read. I stopped reading for a bit to have a look around. It was then that I noticed the different intensities of light and how this small path looked very inviting. So, I took several pictures using different focal lengths. In post processing, it looked pretty nice, but in color it looked ‘nice’, but it didn’t seem to portray what I wanted, which, I think was an invitation to walk down this path, or perhaps just look down it. I tried several variations of toning and finally landed here, giving it the proper amount of nostalgia, I think, and an inviting look.

Well, Scott, I hope that gives you a look into my process. A brief summary would be: I go. I wait to see what happens. I try to capture it.