Day I Moments and Visual Haiku: moments in sand

I joined Hèlen's three day workshop Moments and Visual Haiku which started last night. We started with refreshing our knowledge of what level 2 was about (this workshop is level 3). Level 2 was about Making Contact - discovering THAT. If we calm ourselves and we are available we can make contact with the world around us and see all the qualities of a specific field of perception. Read more on Making Contact over here.

In this workshop we are going into moments, moments have a fleeting quality: we are here, our heart resonates with it, it is there for a while and then it dissolves.

Miksang Contemplative photography is not waiting until something is going to happen (like Henry Cartier Bresson did a lot), but it is operating out of not knowing what is going to happen, we operate from the space of not knowing. We are alert, awake and curious and we let ourselves be surprised by what we see.

A moment is defined by impermanence, the impermanence of things how they are. Impermanence , decay or mortality is a change, a movement. Change has a quality of uncertainty: you don't know what is going to happen next.

Our thoughts change all the time, too. Our stream of thoughts don't stop. If you know and embrace that you can keep a certain equanimity in that, a certain kindness towards yourself. Trust in that equanimity, trust your heart connection.

So, after a little explanation on moments and on Haiku this morning and two series of photos (one was about Making Contact and the other about Moments) we stepped outside and went to the beach with our intention on moments in sand. We shouldn't let ourselves be stopped by things on sand, but by moments. 

Most of the morning I felt I was rather bored, I didn't really see much, I was naming things like "oh, that is a bottle on the sand" or "oh, look, there is a feather in the sand" and I was not sure whether that was a moment or not. Hèlen told me afterwards that in such a case it was better to take a short break, because then you usually start to see again.

There were moments when I was stopped and when I didn't have to doubt whether that was a moment or not. That feeling of being stopped was a lot clearer after lunch when I walked up to the waterline. By then the tide was low and the beach was not filled with many tracks and footsteps, so when I walked around it was really clear to me what was a moment and what was not.

 The last five pictures are taken after lunch, maybe you can see a difference?

Hèlen said that nothing of my struggle showed itself in my pictures, she actually thought that my pictures had a lot of heart quality in them, they were very soft. That was lovely to hear!