Photography as Contemplative Practice
For many years, I worked as a professional photographer. It was my first career, having constructed a home darkroom in my parents' house complete with chemicals and an enlarger for developing and printing black and white photographs. This is the time long before digital cameras when we used film. Later, I pursued photography and a degree in communication arts, with plans to attend the Rochester Institute of Technology for a career in photojournalism. But that path got interrupted, and studies in theology followed by a nearly 40-year career in ministry that concludes next month.
Photography has always been a part of my life, even as a secondary pursuit. I'm pleased to be rekindling my passion for image-making. I recently launched a new website where I'll showcase my work: www.jameshazelwoodphoto.com. Take a look if you're interested.
Photography can be a form of spiritual practice as well as mere memory making. What follows are a few observations on photography as an act of contemplative prayer.
“Seeing needs cultivation. Observing our surroundings, observing others, observing the dynamics of human society, and witnessing the forces of the natural world are the keys to knowing about the universe.”
David Ulrich in Zen Camera
In an age where everyone is constantly snapping photos with their smartphones, a growing movement is encouraging a mindful approach to photography. Contemplative photography aims to train the photographer's eye to find the beauty and meaning in the every day, "ordinary" scenes.
Andy Karr and Michael Wood's book The Practice of Contemplative Photography explains that contemplative photography is about "fully connecting with the visual richness of our ordinary, daily experience." It's not just about the technical process of taking a photo but about learning to truly see the world around you.
We can trace contemplative photography's origins back to concepts in Zen Buddhism. In the 1970s, the book The Zen of Seeing by Frederick Franck explored the difficulties many people have with drawing stem from trying to depict an "idea" of an object rather than directly observing and rendering what is in front of them. Contemplative photography applies a similar principle, using the camera as the medium rather than a pencil or paintbrush.
"Contemplative photography seems to be akin to this, only with the camera as the output rather than your hand and the pencil and paintbrush," explains photographer Lily Segal. "It's about immediacy rather than technical know-how."
The Miksang method is one specific approach to contemplative photography that has gained popularity. Miksang, which means "good eye" in Tibetan, was developed based on the teachings of Buddhist teacher Chögyam Trungpa. Miksang photos are simple, direct images of everyday scenes and objects rather than elaborate, staged compositions.
If you look at Miksang photos — or any 'contemplative photography' photos, they tend to be simple, clear, and direct. They're not (necessarily) photos of lotuses, crosses, or other spiritual or religious subjects. They're simple, everyday, immediate."
As I look to return to my practice of photography for both fun and enrichment, I’m considering these principles.
We are focusing on the ordinary. We often dismiss ordinary things as "just" a coffee cup or "only" a pair of eyeglasses. Contemplative photography encourages us to see the inherent beauty and wonder in the mundane objects and scenes surrounding us daily.
We are cultivating presence and mindfulness. Rather than rushing to capture the "perfect" photo, contemplative photography asks the photographer to slow down, quiet the mind, and be fully present in the moment. This allows the photographer to see and respond to what is before them.
Letting go of expectations. Many photographers get caught up in trying to capture a specific, pre-conceived image. Contemplative photography invites the photographer to approach each moment with an open, receptive attitude, without attachment to a particular outcome.
For many photographers, this mindful approach can be a welcome antidote to the constant pressure to capture the perfect, technically flawless image. As Segal reflects, "I've long disliked how the attitude of wanting to 'get' a good image or stopping to fiddle with camera settings takes me out of forgetting myself and immersing myself in my surroundings."
Contemplative photography is not about abandoning technical skills, however. Without understanding the technical aspects, you can't get star photos or those lovely blurred waterfall photos. The primary focus is on cultivating the photographer's inner vision and presence rather than just technical mastery.
Many photographers who adopt a contemplative approach find that it also improves their overall photographic skills. The eye of the photographer is, of course, the most important thing. I've seen excellent photos taken with camera phones that put some of my photos to shame.
Ultimately, contemplative photography appeals to photographers because it helps them rediscover a sense of wonder and presence in their everyday lives. Segal reflects, "I think part of the attraction, to me, is that I've always had a love/hate relationship with some aspects of photography. I love getting a great image, but the approach described in this book and others like it... is about immediacy rather than technical know-how."
In an age of constant digital distraction, the lessons of contemplative photography offer a powerful antidote - a way to slow down, pay attention, and find the extraordinary beauty in the most ordinary of moments.
This issue marks a significant transition. As many of you know, my term as the New England Synod ELCA Lutheran Bishop is coming to a close at the end of next month. I hold deep gratitude for your support and readership over the years. This substack newsletter will continue, but I also want to give you the freedom to step away and unsubscribe. There are now nearly 3,000 readers of “The Notebooks of James Hazelwood”, about a third of you connected to me through the New England Synod. As I move on from my role as bishop, I want to assure you that it's also okay to move on. You can unsubscribe, and I won't be offended. I won't even know if you do, as I rarely check the statistics page.
Notebooks will evolve over the coming year. The focus will continue to explore a symbolic approach to religious themes, but you'll also see a section tentatively called "Random Notes." This section will include personal updates, links to relevant content, increased opportunities for interaction, and invitations to learning events/retreats I'll be leading. In addition, I've moved my podcast here, so there will be occasional video and audio content. The evolution will be gradual.
For now, as we enter the summer season here in the northern hemisphere, that means more time outside and less time behind the laptop. Notebooks will continue but in a reduced capacity. In September, I look forward to giving you a new series titled "Bicycling with the Saints." More on that soon.