“Ya running and ya running,
But ya can’t run away from yourself.” ~ Robert Nesta Marley.

It is hard to imagine now, but there was a time when photographs were scarce commodities.  Cameras were not ubiquitous.  Film was expensive, and you wouldn’t know until it was developed how the photos would turn out.  My mother once handed me for my safe-keeping (I wonder where they are now?) an envelope of photos of me from childhood, taken in England (before age eight).  They were mostly school photos, group shots.  Am I the one sitting cross-legged on the ground at the far left?  I once discovered that all of my older siblings had professional studio shots taken when they were around 18 months old, black and white, passport sized (for the most part).  Unfortunately (as is often the case for the youngest child), either my parents didn’t have the cash or the time when I came along, so I would pretend that those of my eldest sister were of me! Close enough!

It is lovely to know that with the advent of smart mobile phones, with storage way greater than the first desktop computers, children born in this century are never going to wonder what they looked like as children.  Videos, which used to be only for the very wealthy, or lucky, now become viral.  Everyone can have a child who is internet famous for their first attempt at walking, or putting on makeup, or giving wise words of advice.  Due to this accident of timing, my children (although brilliant, unique and beautiful) missed out on that opportunity! 

With phones being ever at the ready for candid shots, or for affirming selfies, I recently (at two separate celebrations) came across women who refused to allow their picture to be taken.  I can’t remember their exact words, but it was along the lines of ‘I don’t like how I look in photos’.  In the case of the second lady we persuaded her to allow herself to be in a few shots.  Later I asked her if she had seen the photos. ‘I’m scared to look’, she replied.  You would think that, as they say in Jamaica, a tree grew out of their face! These were perfectly good-looking women, with no apparent flaws.  I tried to tell them that photos capture moments in time, and it is good to have these reminders of happy occasions.  Also, I have found that photos that I hated of myself taken years ago don’t look so bad when looked at now! Youth has certain advantages!

In the case of the women who did not wish their photos to be taken, I (although not a therapist) immediately felt as if they needed a session, an exploration of why they didn’t love themselves.  What work did they need to do to fully embrace their looks, but more importantly, their inner beauty that sometimes outshines an ordinary exterior.  And I have to wonder, does the male of the species need to be taught to love themselves?

With the ability to take photos any and everywhere, and the advent of social media to publicize them, it seems inconceivable that we miss any opportunity to do so.  And yet sometimes we forget, so caught up in the actual event that we leave and realize we did not take a single photo. Which transforms the old saying ‘If a tree falls in the woods with no one to hear it, does it make a sound?’ into: ‘If something happens and there are no photos to document it, did it really happen?’  In our current society, the recording of events as they happened has resulted in justice in some cases, as abusive behavior is caught on camera.

Our current state of political affairs would be amusing if the stakes weren’t so high.  Every day we see or hear something which makes us wonder if we are watching Saturday Night Live, or some other spoof of the candidates who seem to be devolving into sub-human behavior.  Again, we would be the laughing-stock of the world if the global implications were not so dire.  And yet there are (apparently) millions of citizens of the USA who do not find the prospect of certain people being elected as vile and dangerous.  There are so many examples of reprehensible, bigoted, hateful expressions that it is hard to keep up.  One commentator likened it to the three Stooges trying to get through a doorway all at once and getting stuck.  So many examples of unpresidential (to put it mildly) behavior come through the door at once, that they get stuck.  Or on some ‘news’ networks, completely ignored.

It might be fascinating (or terrifying) to do a deep dive into the psychology of someone so flawed.  The term ‘narcissist’ has been used to describe him, and that pathology is apparently deeply rooted in shame.  Which results in this obsession with needing to be the center of attention and having no empathy for others, along with many other antisocial behaviors.  And with so many enablers giving him permission to get away with this behavior for so long, we now live in a world where the impossible is now possible, his reelection.

Having spent time recently celebrating a friend’s milestone birthday, I was reminded of the beauty of a diverse world.  Jamaica’s motto: ‘Out of many, one people’ was on full display.  Family members represented several branches of the racial heritage that contributed to the Jamaican identity, and there was love (One Love!) on display.  This is in contrast to some segments of the US population.  It is obscene to live among people who spout racist rhetoric, who fear diversity, who feel threatened by people who ‘don’t look like me’.  It is time to confront the history of the US, and acknowledge the wrongs done to the First Nation people (who still live in third world conditions in many places), the crimes committed against people of African descent during slavery and after, the racist policies that still contrive to make it difficult for all citizens to be equal under law.  It is time for the society to refuse to accept the disparities and inequities that result in poor health outcomes for people of color.  It is time to unite.

This Friday morning I am focusing on the concept of the ‘sacred footprints’ that we all leave on this planet.  What are we doing to make sure that our legacy is one of hope, of making the world a better place?  How will we be remembered?  I hope that you take plenty of photographs (with abandon!), love yourself fully, and send love and compassion to those who are scared.  We are all human.

Have a great weekend, Family!

One Love!

Namaste.