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One Author's Life: Amy's Blog 

Are You a Bystander in Your Own Life?

My father was a very good amateur photographer. Then one day in middle age, he set down his camera forever.

 

He simply stopped taking pictures. He'd been his high school's yearbook photographer, documented his own experience in WW II with a camera, and took hundreds of photos of his wife and family in the 1950s, '60, and '70s.

 

I must have been in my late teens when we all noticed he no longer carried his camera bag with him. I asked him why, and he said he was tired of feeling as if he were documenting life rather than living it. "I want to be a participant, not an observer," he explained.

 

I've thought of his words often. I love photography and have sold some of my pictures over the years to newspapers and magazines. I've taken my own photographs for one of my nonfiction books. But I understand what Dad meant and I've heeded his warning. Photography is a passion that will swallow you whole if you're not careful. When I go out with friends, I don't want to be the person everyone counts on to get a photograph of us together. Ditto for every experience from travel to family holidays. I don't want to be worried about the lighting, or if someone blinked. I want to live the experience, not record it.

 

Now this situation is multiplied a thousand times with social media. Those of us who participate are performers, documentarians, reporters, witnesses, and judges. On social media, real life can take a backseat, and it's not always clear what is truly happening. Some people are perhaps too candid while others are cautious. Many people present a curated view of their lives. Some people post photos once a month and others, ten times per day.

 

As for me, I'm finding my own way. I love social media but I don't want it to own me. I love photography but I don't want it to take over.

 

Like Dad, I want to live fully in the moment.

Finding Common Ground

I sometimes think we all need to stop talking about politics completely. Just for a while, as a time-out, like the old days when Dad pulled the stationwagon over to the side of the road and told us all to cut it out. All the fighting and shouting isn't getting us anywhere. We are a big, complex country and we need to find common ground. Some issues have reached a boiling point, and anger is understandable, but you aren't going to win a true victory by bludgeoning someone over the head.

 

I've been thinking about previous generations when people practiced the art of conversation. Perhaps "small talk" about dogs, gardens, and the weather is more valuable than one might think. Sharing a gentle laugh or a small story that is designed NOT to offend is the foundation for building trust, which is the springboard for listening and learning. If we aren't respectful or at least courteous to one another, how are we going to move forward?