6 Important Things to Consider Before You Pull Out Your Camera

I have a love/hate relationship with cameras. Life can be beautiful and amazing and we want to remember it. Taking a picture is one of those ways. But holding a phone in front of your face and looking through a viewfinder means seeing things differently, and often not in a good way.

The basic premise of photography means that there is always a distance between the photographer and the subject. Taking a picture of a child playing in the leaves is focusing on one thing: the image of a child at that moment. You aren’t focused on the sounds or the smells, the feeling of the cold wind on your hands or their laughter. You aren’t fully experiencing the moment. You’re documenting it.

There are some things a lens can’t capture: the sounds, smells, feelings, and a wider picture of what is happening at that moment. When life is viewed through a lens, it forces you to see things in a small rectangular space. Like a horse, you have blinders on. And it is sad.

I have a beautiful picture of my daughter at age 5, in a field of dandelions. It took place in that golden hour, just before the sun goes down, when everything glows. She’s blowing the seeds off, looking up at them as they fly away. I am so glad that I captured that moment. The emotion on her face, the wind carrying off the tiny bits of fluff.

But I also have approximately 20 other pictures of her running in the field and playing and blowing even more dandelions. This was a time and experience where I was not interacting with her, or even watching her in full view, not through a small frame. I didn’t laugh and run with her because I was trying to get the best shot. And yeah, I was imagining how cool it would look on Facebook (one reason my Facebook account remains silent for the most part).

Taking pictures or selfies can actually be dangerous. There have been several recent incidents where individuals have died when trying to get the best selfie. And for what? To post on a social media site that will be viewed for a bit and then left to the archives of Facebook or Instagram?

So before you pull out your camera to take what you imagine will be a cool video or amazing photo, consider these 6 things.

1. Does this event need to be documented by camera or can it be put into your memory? Seeing your child off for the first day of school may be great to film, but how important is it? Would you prefer to spend that tiny bit of time enjoying the moment and waving to your child? Can you take a picture before they leave instead of the actual moment?
2. Are you missing the experience? For example, how important is capturing the entire concert? If you’re looking through a lens, you’re not experiencing it, just documenting it.
3. How often will you watch the video or look at the pictures? The birth of a baby is a moment in time that will never be recreated, a pivotal moment for all involved. It may very well be something important to film. But see #4
4. Can you have someone else document it for you? If it’s the birth of your child or a wedding of a loved one, allow yourself to experience the event and give the camera to someone else.
5. How much of the event needs to be filmed or taken a picture of? A sporting event could be filmed in its entirety, or there could be several still pictures. Is someone else filming and could you get a copy of it? Can you take a picture of the team together at the end of the game?
6. Does the distance that a camera puts between the photographer and the subject affect anything? When your husband is performing in his band,  how will he feel if he looks at you and sees your phone rather than your happy face?

Photos and videos are great at capturing events, but they can be invasive and unnecessary. Rather than pulling out a camera, try focusing on the moment, the feelings and emotions involved. Make a point to remember the cool breeze that rises off the river, the laughter shared, the wine tasted and the smell of the cut grass. Hear the dogs in the distance, the rain on the leaves, the squish of your shoes in the mud.

These things are important, crucial, to life. Have you ever looked at a landscape photo you took and wondered where in the world it was? Buy a postcard. They’re better anyway. Or take one picture of yourself or your loved ones and leave it at that. Be in the moment!

Photos and videos get misplaced. Technology fails, pictures get lost or ruined or misplaced. But if you are able to recreate the experience in your mind, you will have a gift that never goes away. You will be able to remind yourself of the entirety of the situation, which is so very much more than an image or even a video.

My father died recently. A storm came the day after the memorial service and I stood on my back deck, the rain streaming down my face and mixing with my own tears. I looked up and spoke out loud to him, talking about the storms and rains we had experienced together, hiking in the Cascade Mountains for 5 days in a constant downpour, laughing because he put his wet socks on his chest to dry them overnight. I remembered how I would run to greet him when he would walk home from the bus stop in the regular rains of the Northwest. My childish legs struggled to keep up with his long legs, and yet be close enough to him and under the umbrella, to be shielded from the cool dampness.

Now, one month later, I can remember this. I can recreate the experience in my mind. I can feel what I felt in that moment, and as I write this, tears are again running down my cheeks. That simple memory is enough to cause a massive and powerful emotion. It’s an example of how we can file away experiences in our mind and pull them out later, full of the senses and thoughts and emotions from that point in time.

Challenge yourself to be more present, to keep your phone in your pocket or purse and truly feel what is going on. Live, don’t record. Your life, your memories do not need to be posted on social media for them to be important. We need memories that we hold sacred and do not share in this time of oversharing.

Standing outside in the rain, speaking to my deceased father, is full and precious and holy. And no matter how much detail I write about it, no one can recreate it, re-remember it.  There are no pictures, and I’m glad of that. It is mine, and mine alone.

from Psych Central Blogs https://ift.tt/2OW4fuc