Iconic Moments. Life Lessons.

Life changing events penetrate the soul and remain a part of us forever. If you’re of a certain age, I bet you recall with vivid detail when you heard that John F. Kennedy or John Lennon was shot. I remember everything about the moment I learned of the attack on the Twin Towers. And now, April 15th is seared into my memory and not because it’s tax day. 

The call shattered my peace. “Notre Dame’s on fire!” I couldn’t believe it when my friend called with the devastating news. Like many, I scoured the internet for every morsel of information. And, like many, I became overwhelmed with grief as my friends called to share their shock and disbelief. Many shared similar stories of seeing the news in a public space surrounded by people with tears streaming down their face.

I felt sickened by the nonstop coverage the fire. Then, knowing I shouldn’t watch, but unable to turn away, the spire came crashing down triggering painful memories of the destruction of the Twin Towers. This escalated and deepened my sense of hopelessness. Today, the agony continues; weeks after the shock of the fire turned into a dull ache, friends call to express “sympathy for my loss” or check on me as they “couldn’t imagine how I was coping with the tragedy.” Others implore “what are you going to do about Notre Dame?” as if I have any ability to recapture what has been lost.

Notre Dame cast a spell on my heart. Her beauty brings me to tears whether I am blessed to be standing in her presence or simply recalling her mysteries with others. My beloved—this is how I have grown to address this UNESCO World Heritage site, a physical landmark that embodies myriad national, cultural and personal histories and emotional importance for millions of people across the globe. But to me, Our Lady is MY LOVE. Personal. A part of MY Being. How could it be my love changed her form forever? It was, after all, Notre Dame that inspired me to photograph and study the churches of Paris for the past three years.

As the horror of the fire grew, I realized Notre Dame’s destruction changed my life forever. The flames brought home two profound teachings, albeit clichés, into stark realization: never put off till tomorrow what you can do today and trust yourself. 

The great views of Paris, the iconic chimera and dastardly gargoyles called to me from the towers overhead. But the lines to climb Notre Dame were always so long. Or, I found the day too hot, or cold, or windy. My feet, back or legs hurt. I was in a hurry, hungry or tired. You get the idea. 

I took it for granted that the opportunity to climb the towers would always be there. What difference could it make whether I climbed them today or tomorrow? After all, Notre Dame was over 850 years old. What difference could one more day make? How often we take people and experiences for granted treating each other so casually, as if the blessing of being with each other is guaranteed.

I hope the memory of this loss stays present and pushes me to experience the opportunities in front of me, especially when I make up a story that I’m not capable of taking one more step. And, most importantly, let this fire remind me to express my love and appreciation of others every single day. Because it’s true—you just never know what is going to happen in life.

Part of life is the process of fine tuning. Most days, I feel confident in my abilities. Until I don’t. I couldn’t imagine that after months of petitioning the administration of Notre Dame for permission to photograph the church for my book that I wouldn’t jump at the chance to photograph the church when it was presented to me. And yet, I kept postponing the shoot. I found myself stumped on how to photograph the church in a unique way. I couldn’t tolerate creating the same images of Notre Dame that I’d seen ad infinitum. I struggled with what I could do that was artistically significant to honor her and honestly, I wanted to make sure not to embarrass myself by my (self-perceived) lack of originality. 

And so, I scheduled the shoot for this June. I simply didn’t trust my inner muse to rise to the occasion—even though she’s never failed me once over my 60 plus years. Sadly, self-doubt robbed me of the opportunity to create a beautiful dance with my love of Notre Dame and the ability to share the beauty of the experience with you. 

It’s doubtful I’ll have another chance to shoot the interior of Notre Dame. I bet I would have created a spark of magic in the moment. And even if  my images didn’t live up to my expectations they would still honor my beloved. My love of her assured that if I only had been able to see past my self-doubt and creative insecurities. The failure to honor and believe in the power of the teachings that have fermented, compounded and blossomed inside of me has had dire consequences. I thought I knew this all along, but the burning of Notre Dame lit a new fire inside of me.

Trust yourself. Everything you need is inside you already.