This is in a cabin at Lake Matinenda, in 2006. The door is to a screen porch, green and on the left of the picture. This is shot through the screen, other than my daughter. I love the layers of family all busy with things…and the missing screens. We repaired them that summer.
We say we want simpler lives, but do we? The Olympics are starting. I took this at the 2012 National Synchronized Swimming event. It was anything but simple. Teams of eight girls, often with two alternates, with gear and parents and coaches, converging from all over the country. Hours and hours of practice, elaborate swimsuits, music, hair fixed in place for the performance, lifts out of the water.
The front part of the pool is empty. The teams of girls are along the edge, warming up, getting ready for competition. There were over thirty teams. Not simple at all.
Magazines portray houses with a shelf or a table, empty except for a vase and a single book. My books escape their shelves and careen around the house, in spite of my little free library… My house does not look like those magazines, but I love it.
What does simplify mean? For me, it is not the empty surfaces. I admire those but don’t much aspire to them. For me it means spending quiet time every day listening to my heart and doing my inner work.
I am reading Dr. Robert Johnson’s Inner Work. I feel like I am on a journey, but it is a journey that is interior. I keep returning to the photographs I took in 2014, from the train, traveling from Washington to Michigan and back. I am tending my interior and asking questions. The trip across the country is so beautiful. I hope that our internal journeys will be as beautiful….