One of my earliest memories involves hating the ocean. 

Back in the 1640s, a sixth-great-granduncle of mine drowned while returning to England from Virginia.  Maybe it’s a generational trauma.

But the early memory I have is from Virginia Beach.  My mom’s friend Linda had a connection to the old Cavalier Hotel there, and she, her son (also my age), mom and I (and maybe others) visited.  I was young—walking and talking from what I remember and was told.  Two or three…I don’t know. 

It was hot.  And bright.  Very bright.  And loud.  Waves crashing.  Gulls screaming and pooping. 

Gulls screaming.  Waves crashing.  Kids screaming.

I was not a fan.

As I grew older, I learned to dislike the beach less. I tried to live close to it in Florida as a young adult---short-lived. 

I’ve visited occasionally, usually for photography work over the past dozen years or so.  But not often. 

I find lots of beauty and some peace by the ocean, but other places suit me better usually.

On a recent Friday afternoon at work, we had the normal lunchtime rush that lasted about an hour and a half.  Staffing has been an issue for most places in the past few years. 

During the rush, I remember glancing out the door and seeing how bright it was.  I remembered waves crashing and gulls screaming.  Except it was customers and phones. 

Once we got the customers and phones cleared, I locked the store so that the other counter guy and I could take a lunch and mental health break.  Thirty minutes—then be back ready to go for the last three and a half hours.  It had been done before. 

Five minutes later, in the drive-thru at Burger King, my cell phone rang.  It was one of the storeowners.  Without going into details, I was told to return and leave the company vehicle (part of my package) in the store lot.  We clarified that I was terminated. 

The call ended, I dropped the phone in the seat and I remember staring straight ahead.  The young lady in the drive-thru window reminded me, sweetly, that she needed some money.  I’m not sure how it all looked through the window.

I called my brother while I waited for lunch. When I returned to the store, I unlocked the door for a daily customer and joked about what had happened. I answered phones until my co-worker returned, then gathered my things, left my keys, and went home with my brother.

Closed doors can be blessings.

Thirteen years ago, I was separated from a company that “wanted to go in a different direction.”

After hearing about it, a friend in the church we were attending in Richmond’s Northside called me.  She comforted me and offered support.  And she offered me advice she had been given—I had one week to feel whatever I needed to—pissed off, hurt, whatever I needed to be and feel.  Then, I had to get over it and move on.  I did.

I remembered her advice at the end of September.  And the following week.  And the week after.  I’m a little slower these days.  And I’ve been busy. 

As I started to navigate those changes and next steps, I realized I was fully self-employed, at least for the time being. 

I had started my LLC just before moving back here just over seven years ago.  With plans to get more serious about it. 

But, I ended up back with what I knew—parts.  And now, after almost 40 years of being involved in “parts” somehow, I’m at a crossroads. Of what I know and what I love.

Nearly 40 years wandering in a desert. Maybe it’s time to find my way out.

Now it’s up to me to figure out how to eat and keep the lights on doing work I love. The photography is familiar. Depending on it for a living is new. That’s scary. But working for myself doesn’t mean I have to depend only on myself. Maybe this is a chance to get out of the way. To trust God, do the work, and see where He leads.

I already had a lot of photography work scheduled for October.  Enough to the point where I wasn’t sure how I would get it done with a full-time job.  Especially with a backlog of work to catch up on that is months and months behind.  And months and months. 

I put myself to work for myself the first week of the month.  In the past three weeks I’ve learned I’m a horrible boss, and an even worse employee.  I’ve been late a couple of times, been caught napping multiple times, am easily distracted, and didn’t come back from lunch one day. 

My 30-day review is coming up.

The book of James tells us to “count it all joy.”

I’ll figure it out.  And as I do, keep me in mind for photo work in the future.  I’ve added some new services to my website.

But please understand if I’m a little slow responding to oceanfront shoots. 

Peace and grease