Have you ever snapped a picture, thrown it in a shoe box and then pulled it out five years later and said, “What the hell is this?” On the other hand, have you ever had one of those seemingly random experiences that hit you so hard right between the eyes, for some reason, that (even though you find yourself wishing you had taken along a camera) you remember every single detail of the event, years afterward? That’s Zen Photography – those images, moments, odors, sounds that stay fresh and bright in your head forever. The important things – the things that shape who you are, as a person.
Share your “Zen Photography” with me. I want to know about it.
Great concept Jim! One of my zen photographs is the day when I adopted my adorable little 4-legged best friend, Buddha. He’s a good-sized Jack Russell terrior, about 25lbs, and I had a feeling his was special the minute I read his story on the adoption website. Buddha’s (not his original name by the way) previous owners had shot him with pellet guns and then tried to drown him simply because they didn’t want a pet anymore. Then unfortunately, the fellow who rescued him from that family had a mentally challenged brother who didn’t understand how to play gently with a pet. Lucky for me, and for Buddha, the other brother knew that the little guy deserved a better home.
Anyway, my zen photo is the day I went to adopt Buddha. I knew I had to be first in line. It was a cold and rainy day in January. Even though I had a strong emotional reaction to his story, I was still apprehensive on the ride there. I had been toying with the idea of adopting a dog for a couple years, and at the time I was just reaching the point of having to research and write my doctoral dissertation. Did I really want a pet distracting me?
As soon as Buddha was let out of his small smelly shelter cage, he instantly ran to me. Of course, I had the leash and he seemed eager just to go pee. His coat was really thick and more curly than I had anticpated a Jack Russell to be. There was no doubt about his breed though, because he could have easily played the role of Eddie on Fraiser.
I proceeded to take Buddha outside for his walk, amazed at how many times he could stop and take a leak, pausing afterwards to kick with his hindlegs to spread the grass that now had his scent. When we went back inside however, I thought it might be a good idea to just sit with him for a while and see how he behaved himself around others. Of course, there was a line of others who had read Buddha’s story and was hoping that maybe he and I would not hit it off.
As I sat there on the bench, Buddha calmly just sat by my feet on the ground as I petted his head and back. Many of the passer-bys commented on what a cute little guy he was and almost all of them asked him, “want to go home with me little buddy?” He politely allowed them to pat him on the head, but offered little response to their question. Observing his calmness, gentle manner, and disciplined behavior after all that he had been through, I thought what the heck, and I decided to ask, “hey little buddha, want to go home with me?” I don’t know what resonated with him, but he looked up, jumped into my lap, and gave me several huge wet licks on the face. With a tear in my eye, I had realized that I was actually the one who was just adopted, and my new companion on my lap was about to start a new life. A new life with the name of Buddha.
You are a very bright individual!