I started discovering about two
years ago how the process of taking photos affects my soul and heals deep
places (I blogged a little about that in “Healing Flowers”). I have even called
it “photo therapy” (that was even before knowing that it is an actual, documented psychotherapy technique)! Sometimes, spending an hour or so with my camera in hand is
a form of worship for me….. I have also seen how God has spoken to others
through my photos—brought deep peace, led them into worship, etc.
At the beginning of May, I
attended a spiritual formation conference at my home church. At the end of the
three days, they had us create a growth plan. I could only bring myself to
write six words on the page, three of which were under the heading “What spiritual disciplines
will you press into?” I wrote: “taking photos” and “writing”. It felt a little
weird and un-orthodox as I wrote it, but I knew that’s what God was leading me into.
Then, while shopping on Amazon just a few days later, I came across a
book entitled, Eyes of the Heart: Photography as a Christian Contemplative Practice, by Christine Valters Paintner. I nearly jumped up and down and definitely did
scream in excitement.
About two weeks ago, I dug in and began reading. Maybe I should say highlighting. So far, I am underlining just about as many passages as I read with my red colored pencil! It is wonderful for someone else to be putting into words what I have only sensed for so long. Even though I am finding the book fascinating, I want to read with both an open heart and discernment. These concepts are quite outside the theological boxes I grew up with...or are they....
At the end of each chapter, Paintner guides the reader through a photography exercise that allows hands-on experience to both practice the concepts she writes about and, in so doing, connect with God in a new way.
So, in this series of posts, I will be sharing a few of the photos I take during these exercises and what I learn as I take them.
The first exercise: Take 50 photos of an object that you see everyday "but often falls under the radar of your real attention." She wants the reader to cultivate the practice of seeing deeply, of beholding.
I chose a woven coaster from Guatemala. My mom gave it to me. Its home is the top of my dresser, next to my antique "morning meeting with God chair" and its job is to keep my coffee cup that I set upon it every day from scratching the dresser's petina (which is also an antique). I will spare you all 50 photos, especially because the ones that I like best came about fifteen minutes into the process when I started to get bored and think I was done.
