i struggled with the common, the ordinary, and the rehearsed. the things that were supposed to happen and the things that felt perfunctory. i resisted because, like everyone else, i wanted to be cool.

but now, as i am having my personal experience of the thing we all share, because this is the transitional moment that is changing me, it is as if the world has changed with me; becoming simultaneously darker, contrasted, saturated, and bright. i can see my future self, transformed and aglow, but right now i am thick, stunned, grasping. i am the observer and the player and always cracked. i am paper-thin and weighted, old-wounded, and yet, still reveling in the miracle of my own tenderness. in my opportunity to know pain and loss and disappointment and fear, in my opportunity to feel connected and alive and goodness and grace, in my lavish opportunity to move forward, the futility of coolness has been made clear to me.

i’ve read a lot lately about initiations and callings. about phoenix processes and darkness into light. there’s also a lot of buzz about this time on the planet being particularly potent and intriguing; and it’s not the first time that’s happened, either. still, i have to agree with all of it. it is happening to me, inside me, and all around me. and what a waste it would be not to participate.

photo: agnes. community volunteer organizer in the village of omel. taken during a meeting of the cafwa sponsored women’s group Manyero Onyee. the woman in the back is a group member, and among the many who are HIV+ and suffering with TB.
gulu, uganda. april 2010.

all day i have felt it. the cleft, the fault line, at the center of me. i was tempted to numb it, distract it, let it leak out and evaporate. instead i sat with it. hiked with it. took it to the grocery store. it is still with me now, here at my desk, as i look her in the eye and see myself (literally, look close).

this experience–it hurts and it expands. it is ravenous, staying, real.

what i know is that these are the kinds of photographs i want to take. the ones where i am seeing and i am seen. the ones that take me to places that i have never been to before and where i am compelled purely by beauty and connection; by a pull so deep that i really have nothing to do with it.

clarity of passion is powerful, disruptive, relentless.

still, i have no choice but to respond.

photo: woman in omel women’s group. gulu, uganda. april 2010. doorways project in partnership with cafwa. re-processed today with a nod to the split-toning trademark style of phil borges–a kind and compassionate teacher, and trailblazer, who has encouraged me to keep going…

betty. gulu, uganda. april 2010.

it is a constant practice of re-frame. focus. shift.

i pull the inverse, from fear to bravery, and back again. fast as the shutter on my camera.

so bravery feels like this? like swallowing gulps of air and folding inward while moving forward?

the voices in my head are pretty damn loud. the softness of my flesh still holding the things too heavy to confront.

loving in that kind of way that is electric and disrupts rhythm.

i am a thousand times alive. writing in metaphors, but living 100% real.

(my new site is coming very soon. like next week soon! i think i just may have written the last you'll see in this old space. i've lived in a lot of homes in my life and, i assure you, that this new online home suits me like none other has before.  can't wait to share it with you.)

juliette preparing lunch. gulu, uganda. april 2010. www.cafwaafrica.org

there are a hundred things vying for my attention. probably no different for you. people that need tending. work unfinished. prayers to pray and phone calls to return. lists to write and food to make. a career to build and clients to satisfy. relationships that require restructuring, deep feelings and anxieties to process. a body to transform, pillows to stuff and a pile of laundry to fold.

the pockets of time i have to work my way through these things are minimal. and, honestly, when i find myself alone in my home (an absolute rarity in the summertime) all i seem to manage to do is to glaze over and turn to stone. the agendas become like a swarm of bees threatening to sting and all i can do is sit still and hope they come back to pollinate later. 

and then i remember juliette, the woman i spent my last day in gulu with. there is no room in her day for rest, for the concerns that i have. for  her, it is not an option to stare at walls.

i don't really want to go into the zone of examining self- indulgence in the privileged life. nor do i want to delve further into any guilt for being afforded the space to think these thoughts. i guess what i'm looking at is the belief i've held in the fantasy that a life built on creativity and passion can and should be easy. that all will fall into place as it should and that if it feels forced, rushed, or otherwise burdening, than there is something wrong. i'm struggling through it. i'm pretty sure it is all a matter of perspective, clarity, and paradigm shifts. and i also think it has a lot to do with avoiding my power. (thank you, danielle laporte)

i don't know. but today i think i need a day off to figure it out. or, at the least, to triage, organize, and sleep.

are you feeling any of this, too?