Sacrifice

Week 29

Sacrifice

July 17 - 23

The idea of sacrifice seems to many a vague idea, a noble, even romantic notion read in a book or seen in a movie. An often misunderstood concept, sacrificing to many here in the U.S. means no Starbucks so they can give $20 a week to a charity. Please don't misunderstand me, I believe that type of offering to be a positive endeavor, and perhaps the only introduction of sacrifice to someone, by circumstance or fortune, otherwise sheltered from a direct personal experience of such. This is not to say there are those in this country that don't know real strife. In light of the last few years' recession, there are people that are fighting to feed or give shelter to their children or themselves, burdened with oppressive debt, and struggling with countless other things as a result, (directly or indirectly) of these economic times. But struggle or strife and sacrifice are different things. Sacrifice is a choice. A difficult, and sometimes painful one, but a choice nonetheless.

The dictionary defines the verb to sacrifice; "to surrender or give up, or permit injury or disadvantage to, for the sake of something else." The willing foregoing of something necessary or important for the sole benefit of others. Freedom. Time. Life or limb. Acknowledgement, praise, comfort, health... all can be sacrificed for the benefit of others, and most of us do not know true sacrifice.

No doubt most everyone in this country knows a soldier, or a soldier's family. I believe whether you agree with the current conflicts or not is irrelevant. It's difficult not to acknowledge the sacrifices that these people are making. Traveling on business recently in Washington DC, I met two women that were both in town for their mutual friend's funeral, being held at Arlington cemetery. One a soldier as well, the other a close friend, both had known the man being honored for years. They had seen him injured in combat, and despite the opportunity to retire knowing he had sacrificed more than enough already, signed up to return and continue to serve. I was touched by the story these women told of their friend they had just buried, and impressed by their choice to celebrate his life and honor his decisions rather than despair or question his sacrificial choices.

On a daily basis, soldiers are killed under the U.S flag believing they are doing it for the sake of freedom, be it current or future, and I conclude that this, while not the only example, truly is a sacrifice. In this season between national celebrations and a holiday season where our soldiers are more readily remembered, I offer up a thanks to their collective and individual sacrifices.


image taken with Canon 5DMII, 24-105 4L lens, 1/3200 sec @f11, ISO 400

New

Week 28

New

July 10 - 16

It's difficult to describe the tangible connection you feel when in the room with a parent and their new child. I don't have children of my own, but having many close friends and now a brother that have been blessed with children, it's fascinating to watch. The range of thoughts and feelings is broad, and indeed intense, even as a spectator. There is something about an infant child that sweeps away all of the superfluous noise that we deal with on a day to day basis. Jobs and careers, finances and minor health issues, pesky neighbors and countless other concerns and inconveniences seem to become very small when compared to the little life that is completely and utterly dependent on you.

Perhaps it's good to think about the fact that every action, every word, and every attitude a parent takes has a tremendous impact, short and long term, on their child. I'd like to think that as people, it would adjust our attitudes towards how we treat others, the respect we have for ourselves, and drive thoughtful awareness of our day to day choices and the environments we choose to place ourselves in and expose ourselves to.

Perhaps that's one of the many purposes of how us as people were created to multiply. Bound up in the inherent need for relationship, search for meaning and purpose, and instinct to protect and care for what we view as our own, a new baby seems to streamline our lives... not in the volume of things to do, certainly, but rather in the shuffling and very clear re-organization of our priorities.


Image taken with Canon 5DMII, 24-70 2.8L lens, 1/160 sec @f2.8, ISO 400

Signals

Week 27

Signals

July 8, 2011

You and me, we look for signals to tell us what to do. We were taught that growing up. From crossing guards and then traffic lights telling us to go or stop, to toasters and coffee makers signaling our pop tarts and wake-up juice are ready, we have all kinds of systems in place to tell us what decision to make and when. We look for these in the larger context of living our life as well, and although there may be no blinking notification or alarm that it is ok or not ok to take that new job, continue in that challenging relationship, or make some other life-impacting decision, we nonetheless use and want a signal to make it "ok".

So what happens when we get mixed signals? What if the indications say go AND stop? well, I suppose in this case we use common sense. If you ran across the situation above at a stoplight, you would stop, use caution, and if clear, then go. Simple, right? Well, I think we have to do the same in bigger decisions. When we are getting mixed signals, we can't be afraid of what might happen. We can only make the best decision with the information we have, and trust in that decision. Anxiety doesn't help, and we can't know what we don't know. If we go through life stalling because we don't want to make a decision until we are sure about the results, we miss out on a lot of living.

Consequences? Sure. Sometimes good, sometimes not so good. But repercussions will be what they are, not because you didn't try to make the best decision with what you were given, but because despite our best efforts, we're just not in control. :).



Image above taken with Canon 5DMII, 24-70 2.8L lens, 6 sec. @f11, ISO 100

Out of Focus

Week 26

Out of Focus

June 26, 2011

If you look at it for more than a glance, your eyes want to continually scan the image trying to bring it into focus. No matter how much you stare at this.. I promise it won't be sharp. It's not supposed to be. :)

Our minds seem to be built to want to make sense of things. To put things into categories that fit the perspectives we hold, knowledge we have and context we live in. I believe that sometimes things just don't make sense, and maybe they're not supposed to. Or perhaps they do make some sort of cosmic sense that we're not privy too. That sounds more likely to me....

See, while I believe we are built to discern and seek out the answers to things, I also believe we are built to not understand some things. Not that we should cease to try, but rather that just as much as clarity and truth should always be a part of our lives, so should mystery. It's harder to accept sometimes but I think it's an important and very real part of our existence. If we embrace this just as we do understanding... if we allow for the unknown, I believe it leads to more peace in our hearts, and a more forgiving and gracious existence among those that are outside of the perspectives and context we use to categorize our lives.

Under the Stars

Week 25

Under the Stars

June 22

My family has a cabin in the mountains of Virginia. As a kid, I grew up spending time each year at this cabin, and I have some great memories that come from it. One of my favorite memories, or collection of memories as it were, was of climbing the "steep way" out of our little hollow and up into a meadow that occasionally held my grandfather's cornfield. We would hike up there after the sun had set and lay in the grass looking up at the stars. Stars, mind you that many people that don't grow up in the country don't get the privilege of seeing. So many stars you found it hard to believe you were looking at the same sky that existed over our suburban Virginia home and the light pollution that comes along with living amongst all those homes, buildings, and streetlights.

I don't get back to the cabin nearly as often as I'd like, but I do like to get out and under the stars when I can. The image above is from a recent backpacking trip into Henry Coe State Park, one of the largest in CA, and a great place to retreat. You are looking at my tent, nestled in amongst a rock outcropping, happily watching the stars move across the night sky. It's places like this, away from the lights of the city that I get to glimpse again the magnificent fields of stars that I used to love as a kid... and turns out, still do.


Image taken with Canon 60D, 18-135 lens, 237 sec, @f8, ISO 100

 

Shade of a Tree

Week 24

Shade of a Tree

June 18, 2011

Some people seem to go through life at one speed: GO. Not that I begrudge anyone their productivity, mind you. I think productivity is fantastic. I do think that once in a while, it's good to find a shady tree and just sit under it. You know, take a time out. Not to see how many of the day's tasks you can walk through in your head, not to fret over that tricky family issue you have going on, and not to plan revenge on that coworker that did you wrong. Not to do any of the multi-tasking,work-load-sustaining, performance-enhancing, better-do-so-I-have-an-edge-over-the-competition stuff that you can do once you leave that shady tree. Rather, just sit. Sit and think about how nice it is to be right where you are. Sit and be thankful for a moment at the chance to remove yourself from all those worries, even if it is only a moment.

  It can be an actual shady tree like the one above, but it doesn't have to be (and I don't recommend this particular tree as it is in the path of many-a-wayward approach shot). Whatever similar, secluded and relaxing place that you can escape to will do just fine. It doesn't have to be a long stay either, a few minutes usually does the trick, and will leave you a little bit refreshed, a little bit better prepared to take on life, and most likely, a lot nicer to be around :). 

Image taken with Canon 5DMII, 50mm 1.8 lens, 1/8000 sec @f2.8,  ISO 400

History

Week 23

History

June 7, 2011

I was recently on assignment for Content Magazine covering an article being written about the San Jose Fire Museum. As the Content's writer performed her interview of the current president of the museum following a tour of the museum, I was given carte-blanche to wonder through the museum and photograph the equipment, trucks & engines as I pleased. The image above is from my time in and amongst these pieces of history.

As I wandered through the municipal warehouse that currently serves as the museum's facility, I was struck by the sheer volume of history represented by well over 100 year's worth of fire-squelching equipment. From engines to pumps to trucks and buggies, the history of firefighting is fascinating, and I'd venture to say under-appreciated as well. Before getting this assignment, frankly I had no idea there was a fire-museum. Tucked away on city-property behind rows of warehouses, and inaccessible by car, it's no wonder, and I can understand why they want to move, and hope they get the chance to.

I suppose a lot of history that way. Under-appreciated, that is. Most non-history buffs out there, when they think of the word "history", conjure images of thick, dusty, sleep-inducing textbooks and immediately want to engage in something else, anything else but history. Admittedly, growing up I was certainly guilty of that to a certain extent myself. The reality, though, is that history is a collection of incredible human stories. Stories of adventure, discovery and passion, ingenuity and triumph, as well as of cautionary tales we are best served by remembering. Just like our world today, facts and figures can be interesting, and are no doubt important, but are peripheral. The real meat of life is in the human spirit and our part in a much greater story. I believe we can learn to appreciate that more when we engage in the stories from our past. Maybe that's the history of our nation or people, but it can also be the history of our own families and communities, as well as those peoples and communities least like our own. 

Go check out a museum. Grab a book, or even better, talk to somebody that's been around the block a time or two and ask some questions. I'd venture to guess you'll be surprised at how intriguing it can be.

Image taken with Canon 5DMII, 24-70 2.8L lens, 1/160 sec at f2.8, ISO 1250