Last week, my family went on a trip to Sedona, Arizona. If you’ve never been there, it’s spectacular. As you drive north from Phoenix, the red rocks pop up on the horizon and demand your attention.
They are breathtaking.
The hotel we stayed at offered spectacular views of Sugarloaf Mountain. I drank them in every morning like coffee and soaked them up every evening like a warm bath. Before we left, I decided that I wanted to take a photo of the view so that I could hang it on my wall at home and always have that view within my reach.
I took a photo. And another. And another. Each time, the image wasn’t even close to what I was seeing with my eyes. I saw red, amber, peach, coral, rust, champagne, fire orange, and scarlet. I felt a depth and power that gave me a sense a calm.
But my picture was flat. It looked brown and dark red. It didn’t inspire me at all. Yes, it captured an image of the mountain, but in real life, it was about a million times more beautiful. No matter how hard I tried, the picture didn’t match the beauty of the mountain.
People are the same.
When my daughter takes a picture of me, I quickly see the 15 extra pounds, the frizzy hair, and a woman that looks older on the outside than I feel on the inside.
But when she looks at the picture, she says “Look how cute you are!”
She is seeing the actual mountain. I am seeing the flat image. She sees ME. I see a cheap knockoff.
As women, it’s common for us to look back at a years worth of photos and see just a handful of photos of us. This could be because we tend to be the ones taking the photos (so we aren’t in them) or it could be because we only want to be photographed at our best.
Whatever the reason, take the picture.
The photo will never reflect how amazing you are. It can’t capture the fire in your spirit, the sound of your laughter, or the depth of your compassion. It’s simply a replica, an imitation. But it’s also a trigger that sparks all the emotions they felt when they took it. They will remember how it felt on that day. The picture is the spark, not the fire.
You will never be able to capture the beauty of the sunset over the ocean, the unbearable tranquility of your child sleeping, the joy of your mother dancing, or the vibrance of a butterfly resting. Pictures can’t do that.
Take them anyway. And allow them to open the door to your memories.
Take the picture.
Photo by Jimmy Conover on Unsplash