I am guilty of this. Actually, I am extremely guilty of this. But growing up in the 21st century, I can't help being attached to my phone, snapping pictures of literally everything.
You are out and about somewhere. Instantly, you become mesmerized by the view. Naturally, you pull out your phone to take a picture so that you can remember the deep greens of nature or the shimmering lights of the distant city. You want to remember this moment forever. Nothing can change the photo you have just captured. At the same time, though, sometimes pictures ruin moments. Photos cannot capture the depth of a landscape that you see with your eyes. Often, we get caught up in perfecting something when perfection is right in front of us.
During a recent trip, my family and I ventured off to the beautiful islands of Hawaii. Being the tourists that we are, we wanted to snap a photo of everything left and right. We took pictures of palm trees, the ocean and typical other tropical landscapes. There was this moment when my mom asked me to stand in front of several back drops so she could take a picture of me. I was grateful and appreciated the thought, but soon I grew annoyed. I didn't want to be in all of the photos in those moments; I wanted to be reveling in them instead.
When I'm trying to take a picture (or having my picture taken), I miss out on the world around me. This happens at concerts and vacations especially. I try to snag a photo of the exciting moment instead of living in it. There is a noticeable difference from the feeling I get after the event has happened from when I am basking in it versus snapping a picture of it. What do I recall after the event? I either relive the memory perfectly with no photo interruption, or I remember taking the pictures and struggling with finding the perfect angle. When the second one occurs, I feel robbed of my time, but I am the only one to blame.
This trip has reminded me that I don't need to take a picture of everything. Little by little, I am trying to ween off taking photos and enjoy what's right in front of me. I found that I feel at peace getting lost in the view before me. I became one with the landscape, absorbing the air around me, letting the humidity and heat linger on my skin, hearing the whispers of the waves, getting lost into my inner thoughts. I don't want to be bothered by technology while I'm taking in all of the beauty around me. I won't get the opportunity to come back to where I once stood in all of those places feeling this trance. I won't get the option of looking up at the millions of gleaming stars in the clear sky, untouched by factory fog or city lights, once I am back in noisy Atlanta. I won't get the chance to see the red glow of the lava from the volcano lighting up the scenery around me after this trip. I won't get to see the exotic plants and trees planted next to each other, giving the islands more character than they already have. I am going to miss everything about Hawaii, but at least I can replay these memories easily since I wasn't distracted by my camera this time.
