Not Much Grows

I was taking a break while on a long walk. Sitting quietly poolside at some average resort. When I overheard a conversation, that took me by surprise.

A young man at the end of the pool was looking at me while talking to his friends. He said, "let's play a game, who can guess what the lonely old man is thinking"?

At first, this hurt. I was defensively thinking, I am not a lonely old man. But then I had to remind myself that the life I seek is not for all, the things I undertake can seem unusual, and from the outside I could look like an outsider. I also had to admit that there are times when I do feel lonely.

I never set out to create a path where the things that make me feel most alive scared most others to death; it just kind of evolved that way. As the world became noisier, more self-focused, I found it was not making as much sense as it once had. 

In essence, I found myself adrift from what made me truly happy. It turns out that the single thing that makes me feel the complete joy of life is simply photographing its beauty, its sacrifice, its pain and its people. 

Telling stories through pictures and thoughts. Not to change the world, I have never thought that highly of myself. But to bring focus onto things that make me feel.

So in a moment where not much seemed to grow, a passing comment once again made me fall in love with the path I have chosen. 

What felt harsh just moments before quickly transformed into something rather beautiful.