On the very first day of my trip, our expedition leaders invited us to consider ourselves travelers, not tourists. The distinction felt small when I first heard it, but I’m beginning to sense its depth. Tourists take pictures and buy souvenirs. Travelers immerse themselves in locations and moments.
During our initial orientation, we were promised we’d be awakened one night by an announcement on the loudspeaker system. This allowed those of us who hadn’t ever seen the aurora borealis the opportunity to witness it. And indeed, on our first night, we were awakened—though the expedition leader admitted that it wasn’t a powerful display.
I layered on warm clothing and tromped out on the deck with camera and phone in hand. It was initially hard to see. The general lightening of the star-laden sky looked similar to the desert sky lit up at night by big-city lights behind mountains. But there are no big cities in Greenland.
We were told that our phones could actually sense more than the naked eye, and this proved true. Our phones showed more swirls of light and color, but I couldn’t get my phone to focus, no matter how I tried. I went to bed both grateful for the chance to see the aurora and frustrated that I hadn’t captured the experience.
A few nights later, our expedition leader announced around 9 p.m. that the aurora borealis was again visible. Again, I went out with my cameras. The shape I saw was definitely more typical and visible. I took the photo above—but again, I couldn’t get a clear shot.
At that point, I realized there was a spiritual lesson for me here. On this trip, I would likely see more than could be captured in pictures.
I also might struggle to put what I was learning into words. On my first morning on the ship, I had gone out on deck to take pictures before breakfast. Looking at the cloud-draped mountains, I cried. I can’t tell you why. They were tears of joy and gratitude, not grief. Beyond that lies mystery.
These experiences set a reverent tone for this adventure. There were even moments when I, a photographer who can pride herself in taking good pictures, let go of trying to capture an image at all.
How do you approach a new place when you travel? What wisdom might you glean from your own journeys or from my experience?
New experiences over the past 6 weeks, places only seen twirling a globe became vivid, filling my senses …starting off with touring the Canadian Maritimes for a week after Labor Day, and in mid-October, exploring the Garden Isle of Kauai, HI.
Such wonders, feeling as if having no feet on the ground … as an ethereal time-traveler over the most northeastern part of the Atlantic Ocean above ME and then zigzagging overland to the waters of the distant Pacific …over just a speck in time.
As with you, I cannot explain why this happenstance became a spiritual experience, a time of reverence … why me and why now? I suppose using words to describe mysteries would only dilute the magic, so I will end here.
Oh, Mo, thank you for putting poetic words to some of what I’m feeling. Yes…so many blessings!
Peace,
Shirin
One piece of wisdom that I’d like to share comes from my experience many years ago of rafting the Grand Canyon. There was one couple on our raft who always sat at the front of the boat so that the husband could capture everything on his camera. He was also very careful to keep it dry, no easy feat when going through rapids! I’m sure that when they got home and developed their pictures, that he didn’t remember most of what the pictures showed because he didn’t really experience any of it. He was too busy taking pictures. In other words, he didn’t practice “Be here now.” I’m glad to know that you didn’t try to capture everything on your trip on your camera, Shirin!
Thank you for this story, Aston. It is an important reminder to balance being in the present moment and allowing the camera viewfinder to guide what we notice….
Peace,
Shirin