Lucky Elephant ~ 5/52 ~

pink_popcorn

[Joining Bella Cirovic at 52 Photos Project - Week 5:  Pink]

Pink is not my colour.  I look around me and I am hard pressed to find anything pink to point my camera at.  Quite interesting really, as this blog design, which I love, is based on pink.

To my surprise, this prompt immediately brought images of childhood to my mind.  Suddenly, I could taste, smell, hear, touch and see childhood pink.

chewy Dubble Bubble, popping
thick strawberry milkshakes, melting
sticky cotton candy, dissolving
pink candy popcorn, crunching

I hadn’t thought of these things in years.  So when, the very next day, I saw boxes and boxes of Lucky Elephant pink candy popcorn stacked up at the check-out counter of our grocery store, I knew I had my pink photograph.  Somehow this one little word, pink, had me taking the time to pause and truly feel the fun, carefree, playful nature of childhood.  To feel that sense of childhood wonder is a gift.  I love how photography can take me to such moments.

And yes, the pink candy popcorn tasted just as I had remembered.  Sweet.

 

Spinning My Wheels ~ 4/52 ~

spinning_wheels

[Joining Bella Cirovic at 52 Photos Project - Week 4:  Movement]

Movement.  One word.  A simple prompt, or so I thought.

So much movement around me.  So many choices for photographs.  Yet I didn’t seem to be able to simply get out my camera and capture movement.  Instead, I felt stuck.

Stuck.  An all too familiar feeling of a time not so long ago.  A time when I wondered if we would ever find a way out of the daily pain and anxiety that my son struggled with.  A time when I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to do anything to help him.  A time when I felt like I was just banging my head against a brick wall.  Spinning my wheels.  Going nowhere fast.

Spinning my wheels.  At the time, it didn’t look like it, and I certainly didn’t feel it, but change was unfolding.  Healing was actually happening.  Perhaps it was just one homeopathic remedy, one word spoken, or not spoken, one idea, one action, or a combination of the many seeds that were planted.  Because now, today, we are miles away from that chaos, that despair.  And for that I am so grateful.  So proud.

Yet in an instant, I can be transported right back to that place all over again.  I feel it when the phone rings and my son is not with me … in a flash I feel panic, wondering if the school is calling, wondering what has happened, wondering if he is okay.  I feel it when my son’s frustration builds … in a flash a wave of, “oh no, here we go again”, washes over me.

But this is not that same place.  It is a different place.  One where I know there has been some healing.  One where I know we have both grown from the experience.  One where I trust that feeling stuck and helpless is not permanent.

That nothing is static or fixed, that all is fleeting and impermanent, is the first mark of existence.  It is the ordinary state of affairs.  Everything is in process.  Everything — every tree, every blade of grass, all the animals, insects, human beings, buildings, the animate and the inanimate — is always changing, moment to moment.

~ Pema Chodron

Where we gather ~ 3/52 ~

coffee_shop

[Joining Bella Cirovic at 52 Photos Project - Week 3:  Where We Meet]

 

locally owned coffee shop,
a neighbourhood gathering place

whether alone,
to contemplate, write, knit, or just breathe

whether with friends,
to chat, heart to heart

whether with my son and husband,
to read, talk, or just be together

always a tall, non-fat latte with an extra shot
sometimes with a treat
sometimes inside, on soft comfy seats
sometimes outside, soaking up the sun

always a moment to simply slow down