Photography as a Spiritual Practice
Trying to stay on the high road
Guest Writer: Eve Turek
“and this is the wonder
that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart).”—ee cummings.
I have photographed random hearts in the landscape for nearly 15 years. My Heart of the Day has become a life quest. Some days I find just one late in the day. Sometimes, so many appear I lose count.
Trivial. Trite. Naive. Insensitive.
I hear that in my head’s voice, in a tone shrill and sarcastic.
How stupid, these little heart shapes—in the middle of a pandemic, civil unrest careening into anarchy, and hunger at a scale unseen here for nearly a century.
Yet I cannot help seeing them—everywhere.
Here’s the thing. The radical Love I feel called to is hard. It’s work, it’s intense effort. See, I don’t just “believe” in God the Father, in Christ the Son, in the Holy Spirit. I Love Father God. I love Jesus. I love the Great Spirit. I know God loves me, and by extension you, which makes you and me, “us.” Which breaks my heart even as it breaks God’s heart.
I most often see these hearts when I need my heart to soften, and break, and once again be overwhelmed by that Love. When I am angry. When I am afraid. When I entertain thoughts of vengeance. When I want pain for others instead of mercy. When I have turned from the Gospel in favor of anything less than Jesus’ call to Love.
Love does not excuse unacceptable behavior. But Love says, I will not be the one who spreads, even in thought, unloving words or actions. And it is precisely when I ramp up a speech in my head against someone else, be that an individual or a group, that I notice a heart. And my heart breaks. And I say, I am sorry, God. And take a breath. And pray goodness for that person, that group instead. And try to take one more step on the High Road, the Narrow Way. Love. This is my Practice. This is my calling.
Eve Turek