I'd never really considered myself to be "lucky". 

Luck was something that happened to other people.  Things may have seemed to work out for me--at times--if all the stars, planets and powers that be lined up.  Which meant that more often than not, I wasn't a ready recipient of visitations from the "luck fairy" who seemed to hang out on a regular basis with everyone else.

So why is it that at this stage in my life I consider myself to be extremely lucky?  

Not just lucky--but downright fortunate--regardless of what's going on in my life or how bad things have gotten (and trust me, they've gotten pretty bad over the past couple of years--but that's another story).

I feel extremely lucky to be alive.  

You see, I was at home in New Orleans when Hurricane Katrina struck.  One minute I was talking to my father-in-law on the phone and seven minutes later the water in my house was chest high and we were scrambling to shove 5 dogs and a cat into the attic along with anything else we could salvage--which amounted to a weekend travel bag containing a change of clothes and our desktop computer that contained all of the plans and records for our newly-launched consulting business.

As we sat in attic with our feet dangling over the edge of the opening, we watched as the water kept rising towards us.  With nowhere else to go we listened helplessly as the wind raged outside and heard our neighbors' screams as they were awakened out of a sound sleep by rushing water pouring into their beds.

We watched in disbelief as the water rose beneath our feet and the corners of the roof lifted ever so slightly each time a new gust of wind bore down on the house.  Despite the fact that I weighed all of 135 pounds soaking wet--I nonetheless positioned myself to hold onto the rafters, pulling down with all of my might, in the hopes that I could somehow keep the entire roof from ripping off of the house and exposing us to the elements.

I definitely did not feel lucky at the time.

After the storm passed, we used a hammer to try and chisel and chip an opening out of the attic so we could crawl out onto the roof.  As I cursed the contractors who'd added layer upon layer of wood, pressed particle board and covered it all with an aluminum sheet--I definitely did not feel lucky.

After hours of chiseling, hammering, pulling, prying and cursing, when I was finally able to squeeze through the small opening that I'd managed to create and ended up with a 6-inch scratch down my arm as I pulled myself up and out--I did not feel lucky.

As I surveyed the devastation all around us and saw nothing but water everywhere.  The cars covered.  The streets gone.  And heard the endless noise of countless helicopters hovering in the air--some of them plucking people off of roofs, others filled with media who were seemingly too busy taking pictures and filming the devastation to drop anyone a lifeline to safety.  I did not feel lucky.

As we endured three days of sweltering heat and tried to find ways of quenching our insatiable thirst and keeping our dogs from fighting in the small, cramped space of the attic--I did not feel lucky.

When on the third night when we heard the roar of helicopters, shouts and noise that appeared to come from everywhere at once and awoke the next morning to an eerie silence because everyone else around us was gone.  I did not feel lucky.

When the guy from our neighborhood pulled up in a fishing boat that had washed up on his roof and offered to take us to the school two blocks away to be rescued, I began to feel hopeful.

When we arrived at the school and ended up spending another four days trying to survive in a "community" that was reminiscent of something out of The Lord of the Flies because the rescue workers who'd come in to change shifts forgot to report that we were there--I did not feel lucky.

After we were accidentally discovered by a group of rescue workers who were en route to another location, I started to feel a glimmer of hope.

When the National Guard helicopter showed up a couple of hours later and dropped us food and water, I started to feel a little more hope that we might make it out alive.

When the Coast Guard helicopter arrived at 5am the next morning, I was loaded into one of those little baskets and airlifted out of the school--and saw for the first time the enormity of the devastation--I broke down in tears.

When I was safely inside of the helicopter and my husband joined me shortly thereafter and the copilot asked if he could take our picture because we were the first people they'd found alive
​
I felt lucky.
 

Life is a journey.

We hear that line countless times.

It's meant to give us hope. To help us make sense of ups and downs---and more often than not, to try to explain the things that happen to us that just don't make sense.

I say that line all the time.

I offer it up when there are no more words of comfort to give to a friend going through a trying time. I say it to myself when I'm frustrated, disappointed and discouraged.  I say it to explain the things that defy explanation.

Life is a journey.

The unspoken promise in that line is that there has to be something else--something better--than what I'm going through now and where I currently am.  That somehow, somewhere, I can be assured that what I'm experiencing is temporary and that there is a new "thing" awaiting me around the next bend or fork in the road.

​Life is a journey.

To understand that we are in fact on a journey means that we need to realize that we are in control of the road we travel.  Not only that, but we get to determine who we want to travel with and for how long.  

We are not simply mindless beings waiting for the next part of the journey to happen to us.  We are powerful creatures determining how we want to shape the journey to work for us.

Life is a journey.

And perhaps the most important power that we have in this journey is the power of Redirection.

Redirection allows us to shift the dynamics.  

We can change the direction, the duration and the destination.

We can face obstacles and obstructions and build a bridge over them to arrive at a new place of our choosing.

​Life is a journey.

We can create new experiences, determine new outcomes and shape a new destiny.

We can embrace lessons, expand upon relationships and engage in new ways of thinking and being.

Our potential is limitless and our journey now becomes something to create instead of something to be endured and tolerated.

The power of Redirection enables us to be all that we hope for and wish for, because after all....

​Life is a journey.

I used to think that cloudy, overcast days were to be spent indoors, bundled up and hidden away.  But once I started venturing out, I found that the clouds and overcast skies were more of a reflection of my mood more often than not and that I didn't want to hide indoors from them at all.

These images were captured with my cellphone and allowed me to capture the beauty that is still present even when we think there is none within a cloudy, overcast day.  We just have to have a different perspective and be willing to look beyond the clouds to look within.

Note 2 Self: "The bondage that we create for ourselves can only be lifted when we allow ourselves the freedom to break free." ~KARS




It has been quite some time since I've last posted an entry to this photo-blog. 

I could say it was because I was busy, or had other projects that more more pressing and needed to spend time on my career.

But the truth of the matter is that I hadn't posted anything because I had to release myself from some things.

Not only had I not posted any entries, but I hadn't taken any pictures either.

It was as if I'd lost my gift to "see" the finished photo that I wanted to capture and share.  When I started photography as a hobby, I enjoyed it because it allowed me to capture a moment in time as a perfect picture that I saw when I traveled throughout my everyday life.  When I captured an image, it was because I "saw" the finished photo in real time.

But that ability had left me.  Deserted me it seemed for no reason and I couldn't figure out how to get it back.  Sure, I made halfhearted attempts at taking some photos, but they weren't quite the same.  The emotion wasn't there and the beauty and vibrancy were missing.

So I left my camera languishing in a corner while I turned my attention to other things and wondered when--or if--I'd ever regain that ability to "see" the perfect picture and then capture the moment.

And then something happened.

I started writing poetry.  

Not just here and there, but there were poems pouring out of me and allowing me to express myself in ways that I hadn't done in years.  

My writing allowed me to break free of things that had been subconsciously bothering me and weighing me down.  It provided a way for me to "see" my way clear of my situation and my circumstances and provided an outlet where I could release the bonds that were holding me down and keeping me from truly being free.

The final breakthrough came when I began sharing my poetry.  

When I allowed the works that had been pent up inside to flow forth like rivers of cleansing water, breaking through the weathered rocks of my battered past and cascading over the sands of the new and unspoiled beach of my future--it was then that I had my breakthrough.

When you experience something, you sometimes have to look outside of yourself and share your journey with others both as a way of healing you and as a way of helping them.

Your journey is not always about you.  The breakthrough that comes only arrives fully when you are open, vulnerable and love yourself enough to trust the process.  It is only once you have given yourself permission to be free that you will actually begin the process of breaking free.

Breaking through a situation or a mindset is liberating because it provides you with a release and at the same time allows you to be replenished, refreshed, rejuvenated and reborn.  

The breakthrough doesn't come from the things around you.  It comes instead from within.

For you can never break free of what holds your spirit captive until you give yourself permission to just BE.

There is nothing more relaxing and soothing to me than water.  

Being on the beach and listening to the waves and the sound of the ocean allows me to drift away from all of my cares and get lost in the rhythm of the sea.  Occasionally I may encounter birds or other wildlife along my travels, but mostly I am able to gain peace and tranquility just from walking along the beach or being close to the water.

There are many moods to the surf and sand.  At times it may be gentle and smooth and others it may be more insistent and demanding.  But no matter what the mood or the time of day, the changes that I encounter and the ever-present movement of the surf and sand remind me that nothing remains the same even if it is considered familiar.

We change from moment to moment, just as the sand is sculpted and shifted by the waves of the surf.  Sometimes the changes come as a result of crashing waves in our lives and other times they are barely noticeable because of the gentle tickling and nudges of the events that are like gentle waves as they ever so gently and patiently craft us and mold us.

My Journey of Peace brought me to the water's edge today and I left with a deeper appreciation and understanding of the ebb and flow of the events of our lives and how they affect and shape who we become--much like the dance of Surf and Sand.

Boldness is defined for many in various ways--facing a fear, standing up to something, taking a stand, or simply doing something that was considered for you to be "out of character" in some way.

Boldness to me, is simply defined as being who you are at your core at all times, and recognizing that inner person who is dying to get out and live life to the fullest.

This photo-blog for me is an exercise in boldness to a certain extent, because it requires that I share a personal part of who I am on a public stage.  That takes courage and it requires an authenticity and vulnerability that most shy away from.  But if you truly desire to be bold, then you must be bold with yourself first and foremost.  This doesn't mean that you are the loudest, it just means that you are committed to being silent and listening to the innermost voice of your soul that whispers to you and then that you be bold enough to answer the call.

This is an ongoing dance, and I'm not going to tell you that it will always be easy.  But if you are indeed ready, willing and able to release the inhibitions and become vulnerable enough with yourself to be bold enough to listen to that inner voice when it whispers, then your life's Journey of Peace will be all the more sweeter and full of more adventures along the way.

My own most recent call to Boldness came on a restless Sunday afternoon when I jumped into my car and found myself following the call of the road--ending up a couple of hours away in Myrtle Beach, SC staring at a sign that read "Helicopter Rides: $20".  My fear of heights notwithstanding, I boldly grabbed my camera, marched inside, swallowed my fear  and purchased a ticket before I could change my mind and silence my inner voice.

I had little time to change my mind before I was ushered to the helipad and boarded the waiting helicopter for what became an exhilarating ride high along the coastline.  The photos captured along that 5-minute ride only show you what my eyes were able to behold.  They don't do justice to the song that my inner voice was singing because the Boldness within me was allowed to come out and play.  What song will you allow your Boldness to sing? ~Keisha

There are times when we seek an escape from the day to day pressures and ups and downs that comprise our life.  Those times when we are seeking a moment's reprieve and can just will ourselves to disappear and get lost in something--anything--that will whisk us away from the cares of the world.

The image that I captured on 2/5/14 at the conclusion of a spectacular sunset display is just that.  It was the calm after the brilliance and dazzling array of colors that Mother Nature showcased in all Her Glory.  Those pictures will come later.  But for now, I offer you this single bit of an Escape that I have found along My Journey of Peace.  It is a photo that I have found that I can lose myself in over and over again.  I trust that it will help you in your journey as well.

A few days ago we had a bout of freezing temperatures in our area--which for Charleston, SC was not only very unusual, it also caused extreme problems with traffic, closures and essentially killed a lot of the flowering plant life in the area because of the ice and light coating of snow that covered the ground.  Even our most hardy plants and trees were not immune to the effects of being weighted down with heavy ice and suffering under extreme cold, so much so that our usual evergreen landscapes started looking a great deal more bleak and brown than I'm used to during this time of year.

 So imagine my surprise when during my travels, I spotted bright, flowering plants in full glory. These hadn't been recently planted.  They weren't transplants.  Sure, a few of their leaves were obviously a little wilted and damaged--but their petals were vibrant as if they were saying they had taken the best shot the ice storm had to offer and had weathered it intact.

Their resilience provided me with another way of looking at life's trials and tests--and in the way in which we handle them.  We can either bend and break under the weight of the trials and hardships that may come our way, or we can take whatever life has to throw at us, weather the storm and like the flower--still showcase our resilience, strength and beauty--maybe a little beat up here and there, but still standing defiantly in the end.

"Looking" and "seeing" are dependent in large part upon the perspective that we use when we approach a situation--which then leads us to make decisions on the way we interpret the information that we encounter and subsequently what we do with it.

Perspective determines whether we learn from situations and what we learn.  

It determines our emotions and reactions.

It determines our worldview and the way in which we see ourselves and those around us.

When you begin to see the world not just through your eyes and the "lenses" of your emotions, experiences, wants, desires, thoughts and feelings--but expand your perspective and take on differing vantage points, "lenses" and adopt a broader vision to be able to not just "look" at the images that are in front of you, but to actually "see" them for what they truly are--you can then accept them for more than you thought they could be.

Your perspective does a great deal to change the course of your journey and can be changed with the single, simple act of changing your lenses from time to time in order to be open to envisioning your world as much more than you thought it could be.


(Click image to begin slideshow.)

Serenity is something that everyone searches for at one point or another.  It is that escape that we long for to put our minds at ease and to calm our frayed nerves.  It is the acceptance, the peace and the untroubled state that we seem to never be able to find in a world full of bells and whistles, beeps and horns, notices and reminders.  The faster and "smarter" our world becomes--the less peaceful and serene we feel.

Serenity is something that comes to us more as we slow down instead of speeding up.  

Taking the moments one at a time instead of in chunks enables us to cherish what is instead of missing what was or longing for what could have been.

I have learned though my journey to savor the moments and embrace the opportunities to experience the serenity that comes with breathing in slowly, deliberately and tasting life's breath as it passes   through my lips.