Practicing

Any quiet moment or contact with the world could be the homemade prayer your body speaks without needing to say a word. —James Crews, Endless Ways to Pray

Using my 50mm lens exclusively these days. I do not often take pictures with a wide aperture, preferring instead to include a bit more depth and detail in my images. But it’s part of an assignment for my year long online course to give it a try—that shallow depth where only a very small sliver of the frame is in focus. To be honest, I was feeling fairly rebellious about the assignment. I don’t really like to work to a prompt or anything that even remotely feels like homework. Still, I know I can be stubborn, and this blocks me from learning. So I gave in and walked around trying to see opportunities to use the 50mm lens at f1.4 or 1.8. It was a stretch, but I did it.

Lean on Your Emotional GPS

I’m just finishing up two really wonderful books. The first is a novel, Whistler by Ann Patchett. I’m a big fan of her work, and this one is especially enjoyable because my youngest son bought it for me at the National Book Fair in Washington, DC, had it signed by the author, and then mailed it to me. This is what love feels like.

The second book is non-fiction. Why We Suffer and How We Heal, by Suzan Song, MD, PhD. There are so many thoughtful passages in this book, and it really is a worthwhile read. Here’s an excerpt (taken from pages 83 and 86):

While studies are clear on the benefits of gratitude, I’ve found that at times, a singular focus on gratitude can minimize real struggles and encourage a form of toxic positivity, avoiding or suppressing the agonizing but needed emotions.

Lean on your emotional GPS. Each day, reflect on what made you feel proud, loved, and inspired—three core emotional cues to motivation, connection, and meaning. Allow these feelings to guide your mind toward what matters. Just like a GPS recalibrates your route when you’re off track, your emotional GPS signals can redirect you toward what gives you energy, connection, and purpose.

Proud. Taking these photos of beautiful subjects and making the most of the light and the environment.

Inspired. Meeting a friend for an early morning breakfast of chicken minis and heart-to-heart conversation.

Loved. When my husband joyfully agreed to take me to the persimmon tree at the Courthouse, then to Hick’s Landing on the river, and finally to pick the last of the season dahlias at Braehead Farm, even though he had already done his morning chores and was ready for a rest.

Fall Cleaning and Burping the House

I love fall cleaning. I can’t remember where I read about the concept of “burping” a house, but the idea stuck with me. I opened every window in the house today, with temperatures in the low 60’s, and let the entire house breathe. The curtains rustled in the breeze, and it was really kind of magical. I love the swirl of air around my body. I sleep with a little bedside fan. I love to wear clothes loose enough to feel a layer of air between me and the fabric.

Since the windows were all open, I wiped out the window sills, too. I did a little decluttering and took a good hard look at the systems and routines that keep us running. I aim to be as organized as I need to be to make my life easier—no more and no less. I used to feel weirdly apologetic about being organized, as though I was, in some way, making other people feel uncomfortable. I had an unsettled feeling that I was being judged and labeled as obsessive, and this certainly might have been true. Though mostly, I am organized because I enjoy the practices involved and see them as beneficial to my life. But, this tendency to try to manage other people’s feelings, well . . . it’s something I am leaving behind. It’s just not useful in any capacity.

The Annual Persimmon Pilgrimage

I watched Lindsey Zovko make a simple fall floral arrangement. 3 Ingredients is all you need. She used branches of wild persimmon, common boneset, and a few end-of-season dahlias. I was immediately reminded of an old church with a cemetery near me that is home to a large wild persimmon tree. I try to visit there every year and take pictures of this unusual tree. The tree itself has richly textured bark. The branches are heavy with fruit now, though not yet fully ripened. The leaves are curled and spotted. The ground beneath the tree is littered with deer scat, so the fruit must be edible. It’s a hard tree to photograph, but I try anyway. We drive a few more country roads and fall is in the air. Back at home, I make a fall arrangement similar to Lindsey’s. Mine is not as lovely as hers, but I am happy for the effort.