Photography as a Spiritual Practice
Guest Writer Eve Turek
“But I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.”—Psalm. 131:2.
Turtle at Sandy Run
Years ago, I told a gallery browser how my brain works like a pinball machine, careening off one idea and bouncing into another. He wrinkled his forehead slightly and asked, and do you take medication for that? I was taken aback and quickly replied, No! It’s my brain! Much later, I realized perhaps he was saying my thought processes needed taming or quieting. As a writer, I find it hard to make my brain quit thinking and achieve the calm I associate with mindfulness and meditation. This is where photography comes in.
When I photograph, I pay attention to what is right in front of me, and start asking and answering questions. Which lens shall I use—a wide angle to take in the entire view at once, or a telephoto to zoom in on one aspect? What happens if I change my position in order to change my perspective, perhaps kneeling, or moving the camera to vertical instead of horizontal? Of all the potential stories happening in this particular moving picture of life, which story is mine to share? At what moment shall I click the shutter?
Years ago, I began asking birds and wildlife for their permission to make their photographs. Moving among wild birds and animals in this way renders me more of a participant in their lives for a few minutes rather than a predator species seeking to grab an image and go on my way. If I am agitated or in too big a hurry, wildlife responds with restless, unsettled behavior. Their reactions remind me to approach their world calmly and lovingly, saying please and thank you. Photography counsels me to approach everyone I encounter in much the same way, with an attitude of loving respect.
Behind the lens, I am suddenly immersed in creation, with no mental space left for worry or upset.
To use photography as a spiritual practice, you don’t need to start with expensive equipment.
You don’t even need hours or days in the wilderness. Almost everyone has a phone that can take photos. The key is in your approach.
Take a short walk in your neighborhood or a nearby park. Does anything catch your eye? Instead of making a photo and quickly walking away, ask yourself what got your attention. Was it a shape, color, movement? Do you have a connecting memory to what you noticed? If possible, approach what you noticed from over one direction or angle. How does your movement change your perception? Does it make the object or scene more or less interesting to your eye? Why? Make a few photos, trying not to rush.
Just be present to the object or scene that drew your attention in the first place. Can you feel your breathing slow down? Are your thoughts focused now on just this one thing? Can you sense a larger meaning or message from God?
I often seek a particular image and come back with something else entirely.
Becoming receptive to surprise and able to receive the lessons offered is one of photography’s greatest rewards.
I am glad I can connect via photography with the God Who is always present, just waiting for me to notice.
Eve Turek