Happy Place

This is my happy place.

I come here when I need to feel peace. I love it most in the winter when there are few people taking up space and I can feel the expansiveness of the universe - of myself - in the open. Summertime it takes on a different vibe with music humming, moms calling out for their kids, busy shell seekers and lots of sun worshippers out there for revelry and merry-making.

But the beach in winter is a different thing…a spiritual place full of wide open spaces to breathe, think, be.

Winter is a perfect time to dig into these parts of me. The world is hibernating, collecting energy for what’s to come. Spring is always around the corner here, ready to leap out and celebrate with us. Ready to show us what’s possible when we rest and reflect. So it’s no wonder I am drawn time and time again back to the beach in winter. Deep breathing and reflection is what I need - especially right now.

The ocean always tells me what I need to hear. It reminds me that everything happens in cycles, the push and pull will remain there - regardless of how much I fight it. And each time that tide recedes, treasures reveal themselves. Regardless if you can see them or not, despite their size or value…they are still treasures just below the surface waiting and wanting to be revealed.

The beach reminds me that the sands will shift and change - water, wind, and weather make this happen daily. The shoreline will become unrecognizable at times. But things always take their shape. It is always going to be there….as a guide. And when you stand still for too long on that waters edge, you need to change that footing or the sea will do it for you.

The sea opens my heart in ways I wasn’t aware of most of my life. It feels like it’s a direct portal to the universe - full of lessons and love and things that light up my soul in ways I can only imagine some feel attending church on a Sunday with their tribe of like-minded souls. It’s where I am closest to myself and the universe…everything mystical seems possible at the beach on a winter afternoon. Peace. Love. Presence.

So if you need me in the near future, you can find me here. Just taking a few deep breaths and finding my scale in the grand scheme of life here…just like the rest of the grains of sand under my bare feet.

Freedom

My schedule allows for LOTS of days like this right now. I am very lucky. And more free than I know.

I was recently having coffee with a friend. Sitting in the cooler breeze of the day, we sat talking about life and kids and future goals for ourselves.

She looked at me and asked me “If you could have anything you want in this world, what would it be?”

Without hesitation, I calmly and mindfully said “Freedom.” Which, in truth, caught me off guard. She looked at me curiously and said “That’s an interesting answer…what do you mean by ‘freedom’?”

I recoiled. I knew I couldn’t articulate what I felt very well, perhaps because I wasn’t sure what I even meant. On the outside, I have a lot of freedom. My days are flexible. My schedule is mine. I can work as hard as I choose. But there is a tradeoff to that kind of freedom. As a photographer, you are at the mercy of the seasons, weather, budgets…the list goes on. So you really aren’t totally in control of your schedule. I work weekends often - especially in the fall when happy families line up for polished photos for their Christmas cards. It’s a trade off that I embrace. I love showing people the best version of themselves. I love shooting the best of what something is - be it food, families or just life floating by.

In truth, the freedom I wanted to feel wasn’t any of this. And I need to be honest with myself. What I was hoping for the most when I calmly and evenly said “Freedom” was emotional freedom…and if I am being honest, that is something I don’t know that I have ever felt.

I want Freedom. Freedom from anxiety. Freedom from worry. Freedom from being beholden to what others expectations of me are. Freedom from the petite prison I put myself in because I think I am not enough. And if I am being honest, that is where I am headed. It has nothing to do with anything else really.

When we continued our conversation, I said “I guess it sounds silly, because I feel very free. I have a great schedule. I have a good life and a lot to be grateful for. So many people are so much worse off than me. I guess financial freedom is what I am talking about.” It was an easy out and a quick cover for something I was so convicted about. At the time I wasn’t wholly sure of what I really meant. I thought on it a lot and let the answer come to me in truth.

So now I know the answer to my deepest desires. It’s not things. It’s . What I want most in this world is, indeed, Freedom. I want to let it all go and just be me. That’s what I meant. That’s what my heart wants.

Flotsam and Jetsam

This is my favorite spot on my favorite beach. 8W on Folly Beach has been a constant in my life for the past 15 years. Summer sunbathing. Evening picnics. Winter walks. They all began here. Many personal photos I have taken have been snapped of this very spot - building sand castles, suntanned faces, sandy toes, and the waves just washing over our feet, begging me to hear their calming call and secrets to life. I saw my mom step on the beach for her last time here. I saw my son ride his first wave here. I have fallen in love here. I have cried here.

Recently, I sat here waiting for some clients for a shoot. I have lived in Charleston off and on for the better part of my life. Truth be told, I have never felt fully at home in this city. But this spot on this beach…this is my sanctuary. This is the place I feel at home…connected. Connected to my life, and my memories. Connected to my past and my present. Connected to my future.

But as I sat here the other day, a wave of emotion took over. You see, my future looks a little muddy right now. Unclear. I am confused about what’s to come. The push and pull of the tide seems to understand this rhythm and phenomenon, yet I don’t. Maybe I never will. The clarity of my path seems as unclear as the murky, muddy sea floor - unsettled and topsy turvy, full of sharp flotsam and jetsam that I find myself trying to navigate.

And yet, so many things seem clear to me like that horizon you can focus on - even when the sea is stormy and heavy with waves. My horizon is there… I have amazing love. I have a great career that I have built on my own. I have friends and a roof over my head. I have more than I ever considered having despite the crooked path I have taken. Despite this broken boat I keep charting this course with.

So, I guess for now, I will keep coming back here while I can to wrestle with the questions in my heart. I will watch the ease of the push and pull of the ocean – the way it calmly and gently floats to the shore. And I will ask it softly to help me with the answers while I watch all it’s treasured answers wash up gently on the seashore. Patiently, calmly, quietly. Watch for the answers to surface like treasured sand dollars resting quietly on the sand.

Finding my way

A few years ago, my brother-in-law had a massive stroke. This stroke wasn’t caused by poor lifestyle choices or a genetic predisposition to strokes, but rather due to a genetic malformation in his brain that, up until the age of around 45, he was pretty unaware of.

What I found most curious about his condition was that he was born without some major arteries in his brain. To compensate, his body made up peripheral arteries to make up for this faulty wiring and he lived pretty much unscathed and healthy for years on end and continues to do so.

The magic of the human body never ceases to amaze me. It finds ways to do the things it needs to, regardless of imperfections and flaws in the system.

Nature seems to be the same way. Water gets to where it needs to. Seeds plant themselves and grow in places they aren’t always intended to. Life always seems to find a way.

Next time you are struggling, remember the water that makes it’s own path after deliberate work. Remember the seeds that seem to grow in the cracks of the cement out of sheer determination. Remember that this, too, shall pass and life will go on as it should.

Supporting Skies

I almost discarded this photo on my phone today. Scrolling around for memories, I stumbled across this subtle, washed out photo in a sea of dramatic sunrise shots. I was out for a walk during a moody August sunrise at Folly Beach, the sky playing dramatic tricks on me with each passing second. It felt true to my mood at the time. The sky was stormy, but the light was not having it. The sunrise came out to play that day. But this little Southern sky was playing nothing but a supporting role in the morning.

I stopped moments before I hit the delete button, because despite it’s humble appearance amidst conspicuously gorgeous and fire laden sunrise skies, this photo stunned me with it’s simplicity. The hued blue-grey color palette with it’s subtle pinkish, creamy accent seemed so forgotten. It seemed to fight for attention and it’s own role.

It got me thinking about how we overlook situations like this. Sometimes we are so busy looking at the dramatic sunrise that we overlook the subtle, supporting skies. Much like we don’t notice that mom in the audience as her son takes center stage in a starring role. We forgetting that she, too, has a key role here. She provided support, meals, comfort and endless hours as he honed his skills, making magic for the rest of us. We tend to forget the ones in a supporting role, the ones who support that big, massive, shining star.

But maybe that’s okay too, because that sunrise won’t be looking at me while it makes it’s way through the morning sky. It will look directly at the billowing clouds that allowed it to take center stage.

And that is enough.

The Island

I have been isolating myself like a little island drifting slowly form the coast for years now. Once attached and part of the world, trauma, insecurities, and the wear of the daily grind has brought me to my knees, making me withdraw from so many things. After a while, it's hard to see the shoreline. It's hard to feel attached.

Each time I experience something big that I can't explain or solve, I tend to withdraw. I am not sure why, but I usually make a deep dive inward to search for solutions - swimming around in muck and mire of it until it settles and I can see a little more clearly.

Talking things out when I am struggling is painful for me because it brings up the thing I am perhaps trying my hardest to avoid - answering the questions I don't yet have answers to. So I drift...away from the things that ground and attach me until I come out of it on the other side with all the right answers.  In the process, I become an island in a storm - sea pummeling my shores, wind wreaking havoc on my flora.

The thing I have come to find is that nobody has all the right answers. Ever. And you know what? That's okay. I am learning that daily. And practicing it even more frequently.

And until I perfect it, I will be here, building bridges back to that coastline.

Summer Storms

When the storms roll around, what do you do? Do you hide in the corner shaking like a scared puppy? Do you retreat as far away as possible so you can get out of the path of destruction? Or are you a "wait it out and see what happens" kind of person?

The other day, when this storm rolled in, I was ready to retreat. I was done with storms (it's been a long, rainy summer) both literally and figuratively. But watching this spectacle change by the second was compelling me to stay. These quick storms that move through are firey and fast, but they can be some of the most beautiful things to witness with their continuously morphing clouds and their intense colors and shapes shifting right before you.

As the storm came through, we waited it out an watched the mesmerizing clouds. I could have watched all day until the threat of lightening became more real than imagined and we all packed up and headed for home - wet chicken packed tightly back into our coolers. I was happy to be in the car, headed safely home with all my people in check.

I learned something though as I watched this storm and the people around me navigate it's perceived threat. I am quick to flee any crisis. Maybe I have had enough of tempting fate in my life or maybe I am just a chicken, but this storm looked ominous and imposing, and frankly I have had enough of that to last a lifetime - emotionally speaking. Honestly, I have never liked storms. Thunder scared me as a little girl and the rain always makes me feel like something is going to need repairing (hazard of living in the south in the summer and through hurricane season).

But maybe the storms are really just what I need. A big, fat reminder. Something to shake me up...challenge me to think and stop running away from problems that will be there with or without the storm. Or maybe the storms are there to remind me that sometimes things blow through quicker and easier than we think. That it isn't always about destruction. That sometimes facing it all is really what we need, so we can be present and be witness to all of it.

Whatever the case, I am glad I watched this morph, shift and change my view. Because honestly, a little storm might be all I need to face the reality of life.

Sunrise, Sunset.

Letting go of a sunset is a little like saying goodbye to something you love. It's bittersweet - painful and a little beautiful all at the same time.

But while each sunset can feel like a goodbye, each sunrise can be a fresh start...a hello all over again. It's a reminder that the circle continues, and life just continues to renew itself over and over again. Each day brings something a little new, a little different and something to look forward to all over again.

The faith comes in the letting go...in the sunset. And the affirmation comes with each new day.

On Saying Yes.

I confess...I say YES to this a lot.

I have spent the past month or so angsting over a fairly large decision for myself. I have wrestled with it, turned it over and examined it until I can't even stand it or myself anymore. I was relaying this to a friend of mine and told her the pros and cons and ins and outs of every minute detail. She listened...patiently. And watched as a squirmed around in my own self trying to convince myself that YES was the thing to say.

She was quiet and then from the clear blue said these words to me: "Just because the word "yes" is a positive word doesn't always mean it's the right answer for you."

LIGHTENING BOLT.

It was as though someone gave me permission to say no to something – even though the best and most logical answer would be a resounding "YES." But sometimes, just because it's right on paper, doesn't mean it's right for your life.

We often should ourselves right out of the things we really want to do because the world does it that way. I am, by all accounts, the most unconventional soul on the planet. I am a single mother. An artist. I work for myself. None of these things compute on paper. Yet somehow, I am still here. Standing on my own two feet and doing just fine.

If I had always listened to the shoulds, I would be married to someone I didn't love, working in a job I didn't want to be in, and just not taking any chances on myself. And isn't that part of life? Taking chances on yourself? Saying yes when you should say no and no when you should say yes?

I haven't made any decision yet, but now I know when I do, I will make if from a place of authenticity rather than obligation. I will decide from a place of freedom rather than ownership... love rather than fear.

So next time your YES rolls around, make sure to gut check yourself on it. Listen to what's inside. And do what's right for you. Because sometimes your YES looks like a NO.

Getting Balance

My awesome spring break view.

I had a shitty "spring break."

Let me explain...

Like many of you, I have a school-aged son that was on spring break last week. We don't have a lot of spare cash these days, so a trip was not happening. Instead, I thought of the bright idea of camping for a few days in the mountains (something I have actually only done once in my life...smart thinking.). We set our plans and started the wheels of our camping trip in motion.

Of course, life being what it is, the universe had some other plans for me. Or maybe I wasn't fully committed in the first place. But my plans changed course somewhere the week before. Some great, unexpected work came up. My teenager had some specific ideas about his social plans. And then I slipped into saying yes to far too many things I didn't want to do. So our camping trip got cancelled, I worked a lot, and then became an unpaid Uber driver for my son in my spare time.

As the week progressed, I started to get increasingly more frustrated. I was mad at life...mad at myself. I felt trapped and owned by some imaginary rules I had set up for a life that I was supposed to live. And it only got worse as I scrolled through social media to see friends enjoying Caribbean vacations, European adventures, and good old US road trips. What's worse was that I knew in the truest part of myself that I was the one responsible for the way this week was panning out.

When I started to reconcile what was happening and got real with myself, I realized a few things.
1. I was in desperate need of a break.  I work weekends a lot. And when the typical work week rolls around, I am usually still working. While I do set my own schedule and have lots of freedom to make appointments and go grocery shopping at odd times, I tend to still feel like I need to be getting work done during the Monday-Friday, 9-5 hours as well. To top it off, I was going on weeks of constant work without a break. I needed a change. 
2. I was telling myself a story that wasn't real. Not everyone I knew was on a spring break vacation. In fact, I knew more people that had to work than those that did not. Spring break trips are a luxury, not a right. And I needed to hip check myself on that.
3. I was feeling sorry for myself. And that wasn't allowing me to live on a higher "vibe" - if you will. I was sulking and wallowing in self pity instead of changing my reality. Once you change that, everything changes. Literally...everything.
4. I wasn't seeing the amazing opportunity around me. I live in a place with abundant beauty. I am 15 minutes from the beach on a good day (5 minutes from one of the most gorgeous parks in the world). I have gift certificates to 5 local restaurants. I have a sister with a pool in her very own backyard. Enough said.
5. I wasn't saying "NO" enough. Not to my son. Not to his dad. Not to friends or neighbors. I was doing things I didn't want to be doing. I was creating my own misery and my own sense of disappointment.

Once I started seeing all these things, I began changing my story. I planned an Easter Brunch to see family I hadn't seen in months. I went to the beach. I watched the sunset. I played with the dogs. I went for a walk with a friend and talked about some amazing topics like meditation, family, and life changes that we are both on the precipice of making. Once I took the wheel back, I lived in the presence of joy and gratitude instead of wallowing around in my own self pity.

The best part of this shift is that it only takes a moment to change your mindset. For me, it finally happened when I got real with myself and realized I wasn't listening to my inner voice saying - SAY NO...YOU NEED A BREAK! I was trying to please too many people - clients, family, friends, neighbors. I wasn't voicing what I wanted to do. But once I finally followed through for myself (albeit with begrudging sighs and protesting from my teenager), everything shifted. In that simple moment of saying "This is what I want," I stopped being a victim of my circumstances and started taking care of myself. I started enjoying where I was in the moment.

Squad. Goals.

My heart and soul got some much needed beach time too!

Beach time with friends where I mixed in a little work with a little pleasure.

Looks like they #brunchedtoohard.

Sometimes saying what you want isn't about being selfish or narcissistic...it's just about taking care of yourself. Simple, kind gestures that say "Hey wait...I'm important too!" Make yourself answer the call to do more for you. You know when the teeter totter of balance of your life looks like a chunky kid from gym class is sitting on one end with sandwich and a Snickers bar laughing at you for being trapped way up there. Take control back. He's not in charge.

Just get some balance.

The truth.

"Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth."
 Buddha

Nighty night, Summertime.

Saying farewell to summer these last few days has been bittersweet. I am always surprised at how fast it goes by. It somehow feels like trying to hold water with an open hand....something stays. But most of it slips away before we even knew it was there to begin with.

Until we meet again next year, Summer. I'll be waiting for you.

And just like that.....

Summer is here. Just like that.

For us, it isn't marked on a calendar or a clock. It isn't measured by the moon or the sun or the tilt of the earth. It arrives the day we drop our schedules and routines for something looser and a little more free. It arrives on a Tuesday at 5:37PM, when we are tired of homework and supper routines and classes and deadlines. It happens when we throw caution to the wind and finally sigh under our breath, "Summer is here. It's finally here."

Welcome back, Summer. I can't wait to float around gently and purposeless in your wake.

Skyward

“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”  Leonardo da Vinci