When the Practice is the Success

How photography became my most reliable tool for mindfulness, presence, and creative renewal.

Even before moving to Bordeaux, I had been photographing every day. I am one of those people who always have a camera with them, slung over my shoulder, at the ready. It is essential to my daily routine, along with brushing my teeth, exercising, medication (because I am of a certain age), and having three meals a day. Foregoing one or more of those things is never a good idea, especially the one that addresses morning breath.

Most of these are essential for my physical health. While photography is a key component of my serenity and sanity. It functions as a mindfulness practice that helps me stay present and calm. That is because photography is not only a creative outlet, but a meditative practice that slows my mind down, which is an absolute necessity for me.

My brain is like a hamster on an exercise wheel the moment it awakens. Left unattended, my mind will ping-pong between ideas and obsessions. Hours that could be spent being productive are filled with unfulfilling distractions. Procrastination becomes the word of the day.

My best photographic experiences are when I am in that zone of calm, when my energy is focused on how I see the world through the viewfinder or the LCD. I know I cannot afford to be distracted by the to-do list, anxieties, resentments, or minor irritations. All of it must be set aside so that I can parse the world playing out around me.

The goal is not to make a great photograph (which is lovely when it happens). Instead, it is recognizing that I am in a mental state in which I pay attention through mindful observation. I am carefully seeing more than the obvious: light and shadow, line and shape, color and gesture. I hunt for the smallest details in the world that trigger that voice in my head, “There’s a photograph there!”

Everything stops then. My mind is filled with a series of choices of what to include or exclude from the frame, how to expose for the scene, and anticipating the right instant to depress the shutter release button before the actual moment reveals itself. Every fiber of my being is needed to create a photograph that fulfills the potential I felt was there. There are few things more satisfying than succeeding at that task, which requires practiced patience and persistence.

However, the success of that time is not dependent on how many “keepers” I produced. Rather, it is how well I was paying attention. I am in that zone when I see and recognize things that are subtle, less than obvious. I move past repetition and cliché and experience the joy of surprise at the unexpected. It could be the flourish of fingers on a handrail, the interplay of bodies at a street corner, or the kiss of light on a napkin dispenser. It is a moment of recognition that could have been ignored, or worse, completely unseen.

When I worked a normal 9-5, I might only find 20 minutes to make photographs. It did not matter what the subject was or the quality of the light. I just needed to rein in my thoughts long enough to hyperfocus on seeing rather than just looking. That mental shift, even if for only a fraction of my waking hours, was like a needed medication. Now I have more time to dedicate to this practice, and I am not only seeing the difference in my photographs but also feeling it when I make them.

Today was one of those mornings when I could not easily return to that headspace. I was admittedly frustrated, but negative thoughts did not burden me. It happens. What tempered my thinking was that I would not have to wait days or weeks to try again. I will have it tomorrow, and that is something to look forward to.

Any hope I have of becoming a better photographer depends on this routine, this practice. It will not be fueled by my next camera or lens purchase, but rather my investment of time in my photography and in myself.