Did you know that in 2015, more people died by taking selfies than by shark attacks? Did you know that some people even drag sharks out of the water to talk selfies with the helpless animals?

Last week, I was going on a drive and the song "Look on Up" by Relient K played on my Spotify playlist. I listened to the lyrics, and some parts stuck out to me:

"Have you ever tried to photograph the moon?
Well I have too, I have too....
Look on up to the sky,
I wonder why I put a filter between beauty and my eyes."

If you have ever tried to take a picture of the moon, it probably looked something like this:

Moon pictures remind me of watching soccer on TV, and having to search for the tiny ball on the screen. Unless you are a professional photographer, the picture of the moon ends up wasting space as a useless, bright nub in your camera roll.

I have tried to photograph the moon, too. During the Supermoon Lunar Eclipse last year, I found myself standing in the middle of the road, wandering to find the perfect angle to capture what I saw from my eyes through my iPhone 6. It didn't work, so I gave up on the picture and went back inside. I neglected the fact that I could have just stayed outside to watch the moon, and I didn't need the photograph to prove what I saw.

We live in a photo-dependent culture. When our waiter finally serves our food, or we see a cute puppy on the street, or we're at a concert with friends, our first instinct is to document the moment. We waste time. The food turns cold. The puppy runs away before we can even pet it. We miss the whole concert because we were busy recording every song. Why can't we just enjoy the moment before taking a picture? Does anyone else really care about your Snapchat story besides yourself?

We are dragged down by our devices. Our cell phones hold every memory in our lives, and we rely on our cameras to capture more moments than the human mind is capable of remembering. But our devices do not feel; they cannot reflect on these memories. Filters romanticize these moments. Instagram, Facebook, and Snapchat use these photographs to make our lives look more glamorous than they really are. We compare photos with each other, crave more likes, and hope that we can impress others with these posed memories. Are we capable of enjoying the moment without a photograph? Have we become too reliant on the accessibility of taking a picture?

When I was a little girl, my older sisters would take pictures of me with disposable cameras. They made sure I posed perfectly before taking the picture in order to not waste film. We only took two or three pictures at a time, and then they would put the camera away and play games with me. Today, I see parents spending time with their kids by taking pictures and videos of everything their children do. I wonder if these photos ever get printed and put into a photo album. It seems like there are too many pictures to even pick which ones to print. I imagine that the files get saved onto a flash drive, only to collect dust somewhere in the digital world....

I don't look through old photographs too often. Every now and then, it's nice to have a visual reflection of moments I've experienced. But I usually end up sad, and wanting to go back to that time. We often have a fear of losing euphoric moments in time, and we believe that we can only capture them with our devices. But these devices cannot freeze time. Nothing can freeze time. The present is a gift to us, and the memories in our mind are more powerful than we think.