A photo of the Grand Canyon is not the same thing as being there, as leaning over the edge, stretching just beyond the railing.  A still image, even a video, cannot fully convey the majesty of such a site.  Even the most skilled photographer cannot capture the splendor that is the Grand Canyon.  Yet, what is the first thing we do when we hop out of the car at the canyon?—“but first let’s take a selfie!!”  Before we even allow the engine to cool, the breath to get knocked out of us in awe, before we stretch beyond the railing we start shaping the memory that we will share with the world.  We start reflecting, we start commentating.

It is only natural to want to share, to show.  But in the land of status updates, live streaming and beauty filters I fear sometime we move to the sharing, before we do the living.  We post and ponder prematurely, we reflect rather than experiencing.

A while back there was photo floating around the internet depicting a crowd of people pressed up against a barrier gate straining to get a glimpse of an event taking place, just beyond the frame of the picture.  What’s striking about this image is that while the event/ person is just beyond the frame, perhaps just feet away, everyone is viewing it through the lens of their phones or devices; everyone  is attempting to capture the moment digitally, everyone but one.  In the midst of the crowd there is only one who is engaging and experiencing the sight without the added channel of the phone.  There is only one who is fully present to the present.

Thomas Keating said: “Reflection is one step back from experience.  As soon as you start to reflect, the experience is over.”[1] While Keating was speaking in regards to prayer and the experience of the the holy I think it has a broader application as well.

During my time in Lesotho I have been forced to put down the phone, keep the device stored and be mindful of the moment, engage the present, experience the experience.  My phones have broken, the electricity has been turned off the very limited network has been down creating a space where that perfect post, that clever caption, have been put on hold, the pressure to share has lessened and the moment is mine alone. In being in the moment, in experiencing life more fully, I find myself wanting to draw out the instant, to lengthen the experience, to savor every second, to lean in rather than step back.

These days however, I’m doing a lot of reflection. As my time in the Mountain Kingdom draws to a close I’m taking a step back and looking at my experience.  I’m writing it all down, snapping as many pics as I can (knowing they won’t do justice to any of it), I’m sharing and remembering.  As I do I am realizing there are holes, missing pictures and journal entries of memories, of people, and things that have shaped and sweetened my time here.  Rather than kick myself for: failing to keep up a journal, writing too few blog posts and missing photo ops, I’m reminding myself that I have drunk deeply.  While the evidence may not be there I have fully experienced my life here.  I have leaned over the partition, I have tasted it all, felt the wind on my face (often while being pelted with dirt).  I have not viewed Lesotho from behind a screen; I have not been burdened fiddling with a phone (mostly because I broke them all).

No Time Hop will remind me of the day I met my Basotho Mother, I’ll have to remind myself.  No number of likes will convince you that the view out my window needs #nofilter, you will just have to trust me on that.  No #tbt (Throw Back Thursday) can communicate the transformation taken place inside of me, I am all the evidence there is.  No amount of blog posts can fully communicate the reflections I have had of my life among the Basotho, but I’ll keep writing.

Put down the phone—not because it is broken—but because you want to experience rather than reflect.  Stay in the moment just a tad longer than you feel is necessary, lean in before stepping back.  Experience life even if there is no evidence, drink deeply friends.

Blessings as you savor.

Salang Hantle,

Bren

[1] Thomas Keating, Open Heart, Open Mind (New York: Continuum, 2006), 124.

Cleanest my clothes have been… Bo-Ausi (the girls) came over to help out!

My bestie carrying my water home for me… the journey was twice as long but so much more enjoyable.

Even in Lesotho I’m an Aunt… Meet Baby Holly (That’s what I’m calling her!)

On my trip to America I shared the Basotho culture with friends, family and two of my favorite Bo-Ausi!!

No words…

On vacation in Mozambique

Pre cursor to delicious rhubarb jam!

That’s a flower I’m putting in my mouth.