One Foot in the Canoe

It is Fall and this time of year family photographers tend to be promoting mini sessions with lots of language telling you that their calendar is almost full so you better sign up now. I believe I said something just like that last week in my newsletter.

But I’m not feeling it this week.

Not just a couple of days before the very confusing Columbus Day/ Indigenous Peoples Day, in the wake of historic natural disasters, and just months after moving my family to a new home. I’m in a space of seeking solid ground. Of getting both feet out of the canoe.

No matter where I look for grounding in my life – photographing the way our families connect with natural spaces, walking barefoot in the garden with my daughter, or trying to find a magical new bullet journaling technique to organize the endless task list that is this built-in-1907 cottage we now live in, I always come back to the word sustainability.

It is a trendy word, but at its core is exactly what I’m looking for – a life that can be sustained.

This blog is in theory about my business, but since I’m the only employee my personal life is closely interwoven. The Enloe Creative is a certified CA Green Business and a proud member of 1% For the Planet, but, honestly, for such a small organization what is required for these certifications is nominal compared to the changes we need to make to have a real impact.

So what else?

We try to use less plastic at home and we compost and we buy locally, from bulk bins when we can. And so many more little things. But I believe the most impactful thing I am scheming and dreaming about is growing more of our own food.

I know this feels a bit crunchy – and let’s be real I am a bit crunchy – but I really believe it is less about the food and more about the act, the first step of reconnecting to the land we inhabit. If we are not able to understand what it means to sustain ourselves in the place we live, from the ground we stand on, how can we possibly feel grounded?

Sustainability can become so esoteric, but bare feet and garden soil is tangible, it feels real. I can teach my daughter about that feeling, and why is important to take care of our home.

I have no answers about how we reconcile the fact that Columbus Day and Indigenous Peoples Day are both recognized simultaneously depending on the state you live in. Or about how we shift the political and social climate to accept the truth of why “rapid intensification” is the new normal for hurricanes.

But I can try to take both feet out of the canoe and love and care for the place I live. And I’ll take pictures along the way.