Chipping at the Law of the Hammer

“No matter how slow the film,

Spirit always stands still long enough for the photographer it has chosen.”

                                                                                       - Minor White

Every retreat is a journey in itself, a process of discovery and growth. 

I have always been fascinated by the wealth of knowledge that abounds and the intellect’s ability to tap into that and apply it in any number of ways. To a large degree my mind has always been my tool of choice in relating and understanding my world. In a society and culture that prides itself in being rational, it was to my advantage.

However, through grace and my exposure to contemplation I have discovered how limited and limiting my approach has been all these years. My strength has also been my weakness in many ways. According to the Law of the Hammer, in modern times mostly contributed to psychologist Abraham Maslow, “if the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to treat everything as if it were a nail”. 

Our mind or intellect is but one way of knowing and to treat everything as if they were intellectual concepts or constructs would be a mistake. Emotions do not fit easily into neat intellectual packages and that which is often no more than an intuitive flickering escapes my mind’s grasp. 

But when the dye is in the wool it is not easy to get it out. Even though I am now familiar with the intellect’s shortcomings, I still tend to think almost everything through and try to “figure it out”.

Fortunately, we are ever so gently guided back to the lessons we have to learn and the truths we have to experience. For as long and as many times as it takes.

During our Contemplative Photography Retreat this past weekend, Hanna chose randomly from three assignments as she handed you your slip of paper with your particular assignment, formulated as a quote, written on it. I received the following:

"Leave your front door and your back door open.

Allow your thoughts to come and go.

Just don't serve them tea."

                                                                       - Shunryu Suzuki.

While busy with my assignment I discovered once again how my rational mind tends to take over, even in creative and meditative settings. Looking at anything through the camera’s lens I think how I can make it look more beautiful, what angle will be more interesting, what composition will demonstrate my creativity. It is almost impossible for me to merely take a picture. As a rule it is premeditative images.

This time around, I was adamant not to serve my thoughts tea. Unintentionally my camera actually helped me in that regard. I have a bottom of the range model with no fancy settings or lenses. It shoots mainly on “housewife mode”, focusing and adjusting automatically. The irony is, it assumes that you go about this exercise rationally – you choose a subject, point accordingly and the camera does the rest.

On Saturday however, I did not photograph rationally. I took pictures of what was in front of me, not what I thought to be suitable subjects. And what I looked at were apparent tangled branches and dead dull leaves, water in a stream, dog running in the distance, fallen tree trunk. My camera got totally confused. It didn’t have a specific focal point, it could not judge distance and it was unable to determine what I actually had in mind.

The result is a bunch of blurry images. In years to come I won’t be able to recollect exactly what I photographed in each picture, but the patterns and effects will still dazzle me.

Photographs by George Angus

If I am going through life only rationally, I am sure to miss the unexpected, the unorthodox, the surprise. It will most probably be predictable and supposedly safe, but it will most probably also be dead and dull. To use Hamlet’s words, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

I am not advocating a world where there is no place for the intellect and the rational. Without that it would have been impossible for me to write this piece. But it should be an intellect taking its place amongst the other members of the orchestra, taking turns to be the conductor from time to time. As it is, I am subjected to intellectual tunes most of the time. Paradoxically, the intellect will become more authentic and true to itself, once it is relieved from its role of tyranny.

As so often before, the retreat brought an important issue to my attention. Chances are good that it won’t be the last time for this subject to surface. I am truly grateful for patience and grace.

George