“At the beginning of 2014, when the ground was covered with ice laden snow, and the trees sparkled in the dim winter light I choose a word, or really, the word choose me. Courage. This story started years ago when I rambled into a store and picked up my first DSLR camera. I was so frightened of it that I refused to use it for an entire month. Instead The Thinker went around capturing moments with it, hoping that inquisitiveness would finally capture me. And, it did!
Then, somewhere along my path of blogging to keep family updated and snapping pictures of the fantasy we were living in Europe I was shown another dream of sharing me through the might pen. I thought for a brief moment that maybe this stacking letters together was the path for me. That maybe, one day, I would string enough words together and tell my store and that my story would be placed between the hardbound covers of a book.
But, words they are not my muse.
And, that is okay. It’s okay to be a part of something but not one of something. Because the body is made up of parts, but together each limb, each muscle, each organ that alone plays a vital role, together they create a masterpiece. I am a part of a larger comminute made up of online wonders… writers, photographers, and artists. I am not a writer, but I am a photographer.
It’s been a process to finally be at the end of this path, to erase the dream of being a writer for good. Oh, I will still write. I will still put pen to paper and share a bit of who I am through my words, but the dream is no longer about writing. The dream has returned to its roots, the dream is about photography.
It is hard tell my readers that this is where I am. It is hard to lay splayed out to the world and hope, and dream, and pray that I am not trampled upon by telling the world what my heart desires most. It is hard to put my masterpiece on the walls of the world and have critics saunter through with their opinions and dreaded words of discord that leave me tumbling in the wake of their path. But, this is what I want. This is what hard is all about. And, hard is always worth the pain.”
I know you are wondering if you have read these words before? The answer is yes. Yes, these words were the beginning of the end. They were the closing of one door to begin the process of tugging at another. I wondered as I took two long months off to contemplate, and build, my next dream if this was truly all worth it? Was it worth the effort to build a site that spoke of my heart? Was it worth it to put pen to paper and declare that I am a photographer when I still grapple with the very essence of the process?
Really, it all boils down to one word, fear: fear of the unknown, the unaccepted, and the fear of failure. I have hopped from one cyber site to another desperately trying to evade that fear, but fear always travels where hope dreams.
There comes a point in your life when you have to decide if the desperate need to conquer fear is really about success, or about the control of failure.
Last year, 2014, was one that will forever be remembered by our family as a year of intense struggle. It was a year where hope, desires and dreams, and fear were matched equally with one another time and time again. Hope would step up to the boxing match and fear would be beaten down. And then, desires and dreams would step up and fear would trample them. It was a year where you roll from one chaotic event in your life desperately clinging to hope because dreams and desires were not enough to eradicate the fear from your every day living.
But, courage was the word that was given to me in those dark, crisp, snow laden early days of the New Year. Courage was the word that rang out in times of desperation where it felt like the breath of life was being punched out of me. And, courage is where this year springs into action, because there is no controlling failure, and there is no success that is not fueled by fear. And action? Action is the direct result of courage.