In the Zone . . .

When I'm shooting pictures, I get into an altered state. “In the zone.” Here now. All my senses are attuned, fully focused on what's going on around me, feeling no pain, free of worries and distractions, in a place where there is no yesterday to regret and no tomorrow to dread. Only the present.
It must be like the high that athletes talk about. Or jazz musicians, tuned in to a force outside themselves. Or hunters, when their senses are sharpened to the sounds and smells of the quarry.
But my quarry is not animals. It's human emotion. An unexpected smile, a look, a tear in the eye.
I'm not really a wedding photographer. I'm a photographer who sometimes shoots weddings. For me, there is no more pleasurable, intense experience than being on a shoot. Even better, a multi-day shoot. I was shooting for five days in Honduras back in August and it was absolutely electric!
I shot a wedding Saturday, a good friend from my TV days. I woke up Saturday morning a little groggy and worried that I wouldn't have the energy to buzz around and get the shots I needed.
I did! As soon as I got there and raised the camera to my eye, my brain shifted gears.
I've used the term “between the white lines”, describing a time last year when I was driving home from work and Lois was dying and I was a menace to safety on the Interstate because I was crying so much. “Just keep the car between the white lines!” I ordered myself.
A friend in Texas -- Richard Johnson -- wrote that his grandfather told him the same thing but used these words: “Boy, just keep the wagon between the fence posts.”
Amen!
I would say, BE HERE! Be in the present because that's where God resides. That's where He speaks to us. And I don't want to miss it.
I absolutely believe that God directs my photography when I'm shooting an unplanned, spontaneous event. He gives me gentle nudges, a “hint” or a “hunch” to go and stand in a certain place, to swing the lens around at a particular instant.
And for those who are not photographers, God speaks to you in the same way. But we can't hear Him if we're busy “twittering” or playing computer games with our cell phones or chattering mindlessly.
Lois and I were great that way. At night, we'd sit around the breakfast table in the kitchen reading, saying nothing for long periods of time, soaking up the presence of each other. After a half hour, I'd look up and say, “Too much chitter-chatter!” And she'd smile.