"Take a hike"
Physicist Adam Frank says to all of us, "Take a hike," and he means no offense. He offers this advice as part of a series of radio essays on National Public Radio called "Cosmos and Culture." In his April 23, 2013 story -- "Noticing: How to Take a Walk In The Woods" -- he suggests taking a hike might be an antidote to our "permanent state of hyperventilation":
But how can we experience "being alive" in the midst of the crushing urgencies that make up modern life? Frank gives us ideas for how we can improve our "noticing" capacity as lay scientists. As we take a hike, we can count things, such as the number of petals on a flower or trees on a crest. We can stop and listen for birdsong. We can notice the very things that photographers learn to notice -- "shapes, colors, and patterns."
You can hear the rest of his story by going to this link. The close of it is very apropos for anyone who wants to do photography as a spiritual practice: I am not a biologist, geologist or plant physiologist, so I am as clueless as the next guy when I get out in the woods. But these science tricks for noticing help me focus my attention and keep me present. And that's what it's all about: presence. |
Refining our capacity to notice is an act of reverence that we can bring to everywhere and everywhen. It's an invitation, bringing the worlds most basic presence into view, opening our horizons and restoring our spirits. And that is what science is really there for. (Photo by Patrick K. Crowley)
My Dad (seen here with my Mom) grew up in the redwoods of northern California. Perhaps walking in those amazing woods honed his skill at noticing. He grew up to be a scientist, a chemist. As I was growing up, he taught me to take notice of the world. By his example, I learned how fascinating rocks could be and how to count between seeing lighting and hearing the thunder to know how far away was the strike. He also introduced me to photography. For all the many, many ways he encouraged me to notice, I am forever grateful.
Being present, truly present in the moment, is a gift. It is an essential spiritual practice, whether or not you have a camera in your hand. Through photography, though, you may enhance your "capacity to notice... everywhere and everywhen." And when you do, it is an "act of reverence," what I have in previous Reflections called "normal mysticism." |
The image of the setting sun baking the underbelly of clouds (above) I took one evening at a lake in northern Minnesota. I was at a conference, but I took time at sunset to go down to the dock with my camera just to notice whatever might be. I ended up spending a long time there just being present, watching the clouds and sky change colors until night overtook the day.
Once you have practiced the art of noticing and using the elements of design and the rules of composition, you will begin to see a change not only in your photography skills but also in your capacity to notice, to be present to life. At this point you are ready for a new assignment...Take a contemplative walk. Go walk in a park or forest for an hour. Take your camera along, but don't use it until something strikes you, causes you to pause and notice. Reflect on what attracted you. Photograph it closer, and closer, and closer until your camera can no longer focus. Then step back, and give thanks to the Holy Spirit who drew you to be present to that moment. Then continue your walk until the Spirit once again prompts you to stop, to see, to receive the light of some other part of creation, whether plant or animal or both. Be present to whatever it is that caused you to stop. When you are ready, take up your camera and practice moving closer and closer to your subject until, like a scientist, you can begin counting its parts or appreciating its shapes, colors, and patterns. Again, give thanks and perhaps say a prayer for whoever next might come this way. Repeat this process over the course of that hour-long walk. When you get home and view your images, spend time with them. Select a few and contemplate them...practicing visio divina...be open to the possibility of being surprised by what you had not originally seen...and give thanks for the gift of photography and for all that you are now noticing. Write about your experience. Share your story with others. Doing photography as a spiritual practice is not just something you engage while you are doing a mini-course. Wonder is always just a glance away... |