Thank You, World
Last Saturday, I had a very strange experience in Cannon Beach, Oregon. The area was covered with a thick fog, and it felt like I was on another planet. I could hear the ocean, but could not see it. There were other people, but they were faint figures in the distance, like shadows or ghosts.
I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and I was pretty stressed out. I thought the foggy beach was a good metaphor for life: We know what’s ahead of us, but we often cannot see it, nor the people around us.
I wanted to turn around and go home, but because my friend was with me, I mustered a smile and tried not to ruin the moment for her.
I was worried about my business and questioning my life in general. A few months ago, I left my comfortable job in the web industry to pursue photography full-time. What was I thinking? How foolish was I to believe that I would succeed in the over-saturated photo industry?
A few photographers I’ve met have told me it’s a cut-throat field. I don’t want to see it that way. I’m motivated by the joy I get from making good images, but is that realistic?
I dragged my feet across the beach, falling several steps behind my friend. I wrote in the sand, “What next?”
After what seemed like hours, the sun finally came out. I wrote this sign of thanks in the sand.
As I stepped back to take a photo, this man and his daughter unknowingly walked into the shot, making it an even better picture.
It made me really happy to see this scene.
It just goes to prove that when you leave your fears and are instead grateful and open-minded, beautiful things happen.