When my morning Scrabble game took a turn for the worst I should have paid more attention. It was as if my iPad had turned into a Ouija board spelling out the potential for the day’s happenings. And yes…the device won…THAT game.
After Scrabble and a crossword puzzle with my cup of tea, I headed upstairs for my workout. It was great and the meditation that followed was very good. Nice breakfast, clean-up and then shower. I thought I would have time before FedEx arrived with my package from Canada (that I would have to sign for). I was doubly excited because yesterday I averted a hold-up in US Customs with some email/scanner/PDF technical savvy. My Aquatica underwater housing was coming…today!
After preparing myself for the day with actual clothes (instead of Yoga pants…you know one state senator wants to outlaw them in public somewhere) I felt pretty good. Jeans, Smartwool base layer and a hoodie. I was dressed up for the day. I waltzed out and glanced at the front French door. DANG!!!! A notice from FedEx was taped to it. SERIOUSLY! Ten minutes and they came! I may have screamed a few obscenities. The cats scrambled out of the room.
I snatched the notice off the glass and glanced at it. Dang it! Another day waiting at the house tomorrow…or drive to Mobile and pick it up after 6pm. Then a little voice inside my head said, Look at the time…only five minutes have passed. Go catch him!
I grabbed keys and shoes and purse and headed to the car. We’ve had gate issues in our community with the exit gate not opening for people with an exit code (instead of a remote) and I hoped the FedEx guy was caught at the gate. Alas, the entry gate, which has been melting down recently and opening whenever it wants to and staying open, was open. AH!!!
So I zoomed to US Highway 98 and stopped. Which way? I heard a distinct, right. So off I went and within a quarter mile the FedEx Express van was pulling onto the highway from a delivery up a wooded driveway. I sort of floored my Volvo and got close enough to see where his next turn was and followed him through a neighborhood.
Thankfully I had grabbed the notice and started waving it as I exited my car. I smiled and laughed so he wouldn’t think I was a crazed stalker and he laughed and knew my street because it was the only notice he had left. He thought it was sort of amazing I had tracked him down. I thanked my guardian angel.
I got back home, apologized to my cats and began opening the boxes. It looked harmless at first. One big box and lots of beautiful white boxes tucked inside it. I even took a photo with two ocean books I’ve been reading lately. Ah, this was my next step into Ocean love.
Disclaimer: My brain is wired for right-brained activity. Absolutely no doubt. I used to go out and photograph with my friend Jen who was a mechanical engineer. She read the Nikon manual and when we shot together she would summarize cool things she had learned. I learn from doing..seeing…feeling how something works, not from reading technical manuals.
And the underwater housing for a big camera? It’s a technical piece of dive equipment really. As a cave diver, our gear is sort of technical…well…not really. For sidemount it’s just a special harness, two steel tanks, two regulators, two computers I wear on my wrists…some reels. And lots of training. But this housing for my Nikon…my brain started to balk. I could see myself back-pedaling…no no no no no!! Too complicated. UGH! At one point I felt an aversion to all of the gear I had just received. My brain was overloaded.
I have always wanted to improve my underwater photography by taking a really awesome camera down with me instead of the point-and-shoots with housings…but the expense was my excuse. Today I learned the thing that held me back all these years was not expense. It was fear. Fear of complications, fear of flooding my camera, fear of feeling like I was starting over with photography and diving as this is no small rig. Fear of losing my love of diving because of how much I have to remember to make sure everything is in place. Fear of getting out of my comfort zone.
This housing is forcing me to take my work seriously. (Pause for effect). I realize I like to play underwater and enjoy the beauty and float along communing with my sea creature friends. And that’s fine and good and it inspires me to write. But it isn’t accomplishing what I want to do with my art, my work. I see things underwater that my point-and-shoot cameras and housings could never capture. The only way to do it is to make the leap to new gear, new learning.
Lately I’ve felt a really big push to get on with the work. I even told a couple of friends last week that I must have gotten too comfortable and was getting kicked to the edge of the cliff. It’s like my Higher Self pushing me to the edge and then smiling as a spiritual foot plants in my backside and I leap. We never go forward if we stay comfortable…do we?
If the payoff is equal to the confusion, frustration and discomfort I’m overcoming, expectations are high to make huge leaps in the work of loving the Ocean, documenting its beauty and sharing with others. This is a big girl’s toy. And there’s no question of whether or not I’ll learn to use it…it’s coming. I will not let fear keep me from my soul’s work.
Just today I progressed from confusion over bits and pieces of gear scattered on my kitchen bar–as captured by a confused look when I accidentally triggered the shutter–to taking photos of a curious ‘catfish.’
Who knows, tomorrow I might even fill the garden tub and test the housing (without the camera). But…the strobes are coming tomorrow and I expect I’ll be reading more technical manuals and trying to stay untangled from the long arms of the strobes.
When I look at pages filled with tiny lines pointing at hard-to-see-diagram bits, I feel overwhelmed. But when I take it one step at a time and follow the directions, it comes together. It works. And I think that’s true about life. It can be overwhelming if we look at everything that’s going on but if we take it piece-by-piece then it becomes more manageable. We can see the small progression of successes.
Just a few weeks ago there was a good bit of anxiety about stepping my photography up to another level with a large investment in a housing that would allow me to take my Nikon D800 underwater. The first baptism in Hunter Spring erased any doubt. Today, after having the dome port kissed by a juvenile manatee and capturing some of the best images I’ve taken–at Ginnie Springs–I realize this step is opening an entirely new dimension to my work.
As I was playing in Ginnie Springs with color, light and geometries it was clear I had settled into a higher level of creativity. I say playing because I believe letting go, losing myself in creativity is really play. It’s work to me but in name only. When we can allow ourselves to let go of everything else and focus on the elements that are present, something amazing can be birthed.
What I noticed was the intense beauty of the water, plant life, rocks, caverns…it seemed to embrace me on a deeper level as I surrendered to the process of translating what I saw through the camera. Now I have the right equipment that allows this process to occur.
Even though manatees were scarce this week there was little to feel sad about as my heart and mind opened to the magnificent beauty of Florida’s freshwater springs and allowed my creativity to expand.
Surrender is a word that carries over from last weekend’s workshop in Atlanta. When we surrender ourselves to the process, something greater can be created. Had I gotten upset about a lack of manatees, I would have missed exquisite beauty surrounding me. Had I allowed fear keep me from leaping forward with the new gear purchase, this new step forward in my life wouldn’t have happened. Surrender….allowing. Letting go…opening our hearts and minds….this is a key to success.
It’s time to embrace life with both arms and an open heart. This will unleash creativity. This will help us take the next step forward.
