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My Lens

One Drop At A Time

Roni Delmonico


It is from the simplest of things, that I derive the most pleasure.  They are usually things that cannot be purchased, and can only be really appreciated, if I take the time to slow down and experience them, rather than simply rushing by and stepping right over them. That is why I like to spend so much of my camera time either on my knees or flat on my belly.  I know I've belabored this point a bit but I get a much different perspective when I find myself in that position.  It's like that in my daily life too.  Are you frustrated with one of your kids?  Try getting down on your knees in front of them.  It's nearly impossible to stay frustrated when your knees are on the floor.

This has been a profound lesson for me lately and one I find it difficult to learn.  Being on my knees is a great way to remain humble but it sure doesn't come easily to me.  I found myself thinking about that this  morning as I crawled around looking for inspiration and thinking about what I wanted to say about how I've been feeling.  Sometimes it feels inside of me, the same way it feels outside of me and it's different in every season.  The light was beautiful this morning and it illuminated something for me.  There is change in the air, sure. I can clearly see it as the leaves continue to drop off my trees and float on down the river. But it's a feeling too.  Every few months...just when I think I've had it and I can't do it anymore, like I have exhausted everything there is to say, and every creative drop of juice in my body has dried up, there is a certain sense of renewal that comes with the change of the season.  Sometimes I have to force myself to get out there and recognize it, but it's there, always, every year, the same as the one before it.

I know some of you are struggling too.  We bear the scars of lost loved ones, continued war on cancer, the battle over depression and addiction, the struggle with aging parents and the terrible disease of dementia. We've found ourselves on the brink of total physical exhaustion, lost financially, feeling profound loneliness even as we are surrounded by people, and all the while searching to find our place creatively.  I've cried quite a bit over the last couple of months and that's okay.  Tears are healing.  One of the gifts of being vulnerable and opening myself up to others out there is that in doing so, others feel it's okay to open up to me.  I find a good deal of strength in that because by encouraging other people, I feel encouraged too.  There are times when I get really tired and need to step away for awhile but I am healing and so will you.  

One beautiful drop at a time.