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Posts tagged ‘acheiving goals’

The Dream & The Death

Today is a very big day. In just a few hours, I will be loading up nine of my large framed photos and delivering them safely to the local hospital for my first solo art exhibition. It is a lifelong dream come true. And mostly, it has been incredible. I told my counselor the other day that it feels like a dream… that it feels like I got dropped into someone else’s life all of the sudden and that I got really lucky, because their life happens to be all the things that I always wanted my own life to be. Like, hey, I could get used to this!

But of course, it’s not ALL the things I wanted my life to be. We all know that. He is not here. I may 100% believe that he can see everything I’m doing and he is working overtime to help align things and forge this new path for me… but that doesn’t change the fact that he cannot stand next to me for this moment.

It is especially bittersweet because I was here to see him reach his greatest dreams. After years of hard work – after the two of us sitting on my couch night after night while he taught me more than I ever thought I’d know about helicopters – he finished flight school and got his flight instructor certification. I watched him transform from a someone who was very scared of actually accomplishing his dreams to someone who was totally committed to achieving them. I remember how incredible it was to stand by his side for that. To watch him so fully step into himself was one of the greatest honors of my young life.

In the past few weeks, I am realizing that the journey I have been on for the past two years – since he died – has actually been the same journey I watched him go through in our 3 years together. Not the grief part per say, but all the rest. Grappling with the fear of fully committing myself to my dreams of being a successful artist. Having all I needed in place and lined up before me and still being afraid to step through that open door. Afraid to fail. Afraid of what people would think. Afraid to lose more pieces of my old life and therefore him. Man, stepping through that door is freakin’ scary no matter HOW bright it looks. It feels selfish. And that voice pops up again and again saying “WHO do you think YOU are? Sit back down”. When you add his loss into that equation, it makes it even more complicated.

Because here’s the thing… this is all happening because he died. All of the choices I have made – quitting my job, moving away, starting over – all the imagery I have created, all the words I have written, all the opportunities that have come into my life. All of it – every single piece – is in my life because he is dead. His death has been the wellspring of everything beautiful in the past two years of my life. And that feels really weird. To be SO grateful for things that are happening because he is dead. It makes you feel like you are being grateful that this person is dead. Logically of course you are not – you are grateful for the gifts that came out of that death – but it feels weird. And I don’t quite know what to do with that. I would give anything to have him back here, but for the first time since he died – that wish also involves erasing a new part of myself and my life that means a lot to me and brings me much joy. It’s a lot to have rolling around in an already-analytical mind, I tell ya!

imageSo as I pack up all my photos and head out to set up my first show – I know, it’s going to be pretty emotional. I have been imagining it for days now… hanging the last photo up on the wall. Stepping down and walking back to take it all in for the first time. To look on the entire past two years of my life captured through these photos. My entire private world of grief literally up on the wall for all the world to see. It’s going to make me really sad. It’s also going to make me really happy and really proud and really satisfied. It’s going to be all those emotions – the painful and the positive, the dream and the death, all mixed together. But the best part is that I know I am stepping into the next big chapter of something that he began with me. He bought me my first real camera. And many of the lenses I still use today. He was there for the first juried show I had work in. And somehow, he is still very much here for this next leg of my journey…

He is here in that fact that his parents will be the ones helping me hang my show up today. They have been on this journey with me every step of the way – extending his love through their own hearts. He is here in every photo, in every emotion held within my images, in every story I tell. Really, very truly, he made every single one of those photographs with me. It’s been a collaboration beyond anything we could have made before he crossed over.

So there we three will stand today. And the tears they will come. We will cry because of what is in front of us. Because of this awesome accomplishment and this work we are all so proud of. And we will also cry for who is not beside us. For who should be beside us. And for who we are looking back at in those images before us. Damn it all, I’m crying already!

Inspiration: A Marathon to Remember

It is not a rare thing for me to read an inspiring story about someone overcoming great obstacles and end up crying. Let me tell you… I’m a crier. But it is a rare thing when the very thought of that person’s story still has me choked up nearly a week later just upon thinking of it. And that is why I’d like to share Claire’s recent achievement and share just what it means to me.

Claire Lomas is paralyzed from the chest down – the result of being thrown from her horse during competitive riding finals in 2007. This past week, after 16 arduous days of slow and careful stepping, she became the first person to complete a marathon in a bionic suit. So first of all, that is already one of the most badass things I can imagine. On top of that, her ambitious goal gained the attention of many, including sponsors and other supporters who donated to her cause. By the time she reached the finish line, Claire had raised over £132,ooo for Spinal Research. Wow.

What amazes me most about this story is that it’s not just about one woman and her goal to walk again. There is so much more here. The fact that she used her walking for a greater good – making it a goal so seemingly insurmountable as to not be ignored. And of course it inspired a world of people, who in turn showed immense outpourings of support for her bravery. Then I begin to think of the bionic suit itself… and the scientists and engineers who must have poured their hearts and souls and uncountable hours into creating such a thing. Imagine what her success meant to them – and what their creation has meant to her. And finally, I think to myself, my god, what if I were paralyzed? And I saw this woman halfway across the world who just walked a marathon! Sure she has a $70,000 suit in order to do it, but she is walking again. That would be enough to change my whole world.


Thank you Claire, for living your life with gusto! And, as I have read in almost every article written about your story, doing it while always wearing a smile.

*Photo credit: CARL COURT/AFP/Getty Images



Donate to Claire’s Cause for Spinal Research

“Badass Paralyzed Woman Finishes London Marathon in a Bionic Suit” – Gizmodo

“Paralysed Claire Lomas completes London Marathon” – The Telegraph

“Paralysed Athlete Finishes Marathon” –


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