Just sit with it.
At the start of 2020, I received a fairly typical inquiry for a photo session from a potential client: her name was Mitra, and she was inquiring about a Signature Fine Art piece inspired by her daughter and love of all things Disney. Then the pandemic hit, and our photography session discussions halted.
A few months later, I noticed this same woman’s name popping up on Facebook. “Mitra” isn’t exactly a common name, so it naturally jumped out at me. Turned out we were in quite a few photography groups together. She was looking to start a photography business, and specifically a mentor to help her in the process. Being a huge advocate for women in the creative industry and passionate as I am about “community over competition”, I reached out to her and offered my services. A Mentor-Mentee relationship began.
We met a few times at a Panera equidistant from my photography studio and her home in Orlando. I taught her the basics of Lightroom editing, and she told me of her business goals. Before long, in-between chatting camera settings and Golden Hour, I found myself sharing my stories of motherhood, as Mitra shared a bit about her life with husband, dogs, and daughter. We literally broke bread together over salads and soups, chatting photography biz basics and the art of being profitable in an over-saturated industry … along with pet peeves in the home, favorite music, and stories of growing up — she grew up Persian in a Muslim household, I grew up white and Christian
After a few meetings, I realized i was letting down my guard. I try to maintain a level of genuineness in any relationship, but in professional dealings, I keep it …. well, professional. But something about this woman felt “safe” and disarming; she was smart, beautiful, and confident (quite unlike my scattered, awkward, and self-conscious self), but strange things happen, and this was no exception —
Mitra and I were becoming friends.
In less than a year, I’ve watched Mitra blossom into a right-good photographer, doing business as Magnolia Skye Photography. And she’s modeled for me a few times (I told you, she’s beautiful). And now she and I are planning a trip up to Maine in May, to play with cameras along a rocky coast, with another gorgeous friend of mine, some big dramatic dresses, and floral headpieces, resulting (we hope) in some pretty spectacular photographic art.
But, ever the Artist, I have the proverbial “artistic temperament”. A sufferer of depression and (more immediately) S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder), I’ve really been struggling lately. Winters are hard on me. Even living in sunny Florida, the weeks between the holidays and full-blown Spring are always a time of emotional struggle — what with its grey skies and my innate yearning to be closer to the sun.
Mitra noticed, I think. She’s smart, as I said. And intuitive (which is maybe why I like her so much: no beating around the bush with this woman; she calls a spade a spade and knows the spade when she sees one). Maybe that’s why she invited me to join her in Orlando for a “play date”. We met on Walt Disney World property; we enjoyed lunch together at Disney’s Contemporary Resort; and then we indulged in a little resort hopping, cameras at the ever-ready, snapping each other in magical spots, doing what we both love doing.
But Mitra did a funny thing. Every once in awhile, she’d walk away from me and find a bench to sit on or a swing to swing on. Patting the seat beside her, she’d beckoned me to join her.
I’m not gonna lie: I found this odd behavior. Unaccustomed to pausing, I asked if I was walking too fast for her. (I am a bit taller than Mitra and most of me legs.)
“Yeah, a little … but it’s good to just sit with it,” she replied.
So we sat. And then we rose again to walk a little more, photograph a bit more … until it was time again —
“Just sit with it?” I asked?
“Yeah. You just sit with it.”
“Like ‘stop and smell the roses’?” I was trying to understand why we kept pausing. There is so much to see on Disney property, so much to experience, so much light to be photographed and terrain to be explored.
“Just sit with it.”
That was all the explanation Mitra would give. So I indulged her, even though the concept and its accompanying action was so foreign to me.
But it stuck with me. Really stuck with me. I’ve rolled that phrase around in my mind for several weeks now, ruminated on it, savored it, really gotten a taste for it.
The last few weeks I’ve been without my usual MacBook (it’s in the shop for a new battery), so I’ve been without my usual routine, without my ability to edit photos or to feel connected to the world in that strange, technological way humans are now accustomed to. And I’ve felt completely out of my box, if I’m honest. I’ve done a bit more laundry than usual, more house work than usual, more knitting and book reading and Netflix’ing than usual.
And I’ve been thinking more than usual. Not a particularly good endeavor for someone struggling with depression on the daily, but I’ve thought and thought …. and thought some more. And in all of my thinking, I’ve grappled and wrestled with myself.
I’ve realized how very tired I am of the daily grind. Is this what burnout feels like?
I’ve realized how much harder 2020 was on me than I’d thought. I had coped so well …. but I know now I hadn’t coped at all; I’d plowed through, staying busy, constantly working, working, working. And when there was no work to be done, I’d created work to do.
I’ve realized how much time I’ve spent DOING things — keeping myself preoccupied — so I wouldn’t have to think about and grapple with the very real reality that my daughters are all leaving the nest and I will, in just a few months time, find myself utterly alone in a big, empty house, with no Mothering to be done.
I’ve realized how I mostly seem to be running away — from my feelings, from my sadness, from my emptiness, from my fear of feeling sad and empty.
I’ve realized how I feel most days like a Human Doing, rather than a Human Being.
And I realized how vital it is, sometimes, to —
Just sit with it.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve found myself crying as I just sit with it. But as I cry and sit, I’ve realized something very powerful coming from it.
Release. And acceptance.
I think a lot of times, we stay busy so we won’t have to deal with things. That’s what I’ve learned to admit about myself, anyway. Or we stay busy so we can have some semblance of control over the perceived trauma that might happen if we decide instead to just sit with it, accept it, own it.
And I’ve realized over the last couple of weeks how wise my friend Mitra is … because it is absolutely vital that we just sit with it, that we just hold it in our hands sometimes, cry over it, grieve it, and not try to figure it out … until we’re at a place of peace, a place where it’s okay to slow down, breathe, and
Just sit with it.