Friday, January 27, 2012


"A cubicle at a job you don't love can either be a prison cell or a launch pad. The choice is yours each day. Choose wisely." ~JON ACUFF

I follow Jon Acuff on Twitter and when I read his tweet this morning I felt the impact of each word as if boulders slammed into my chest. The truth HURTS! I took the picture of the girl above when I attended a homeless outreach in Fullerton. It wasn't so much the shirt that caught my attention but the pure happiness radiating from her smile. I was jealous. She was HAPPY doing her job, serving the homeless plates of hot dogs and potato chips. I was drawn to her and couldn't stop staring. I was so grateful that she let me take a photo of her. 

I'm ashamed to say that it wasn't the homeless that mesmerized me that day; it was her. I want to work in a job that I LOVE. I want to perform in a job that made me smile like that. If it were feasible for me to quit my current job in the field that I detest and become a full-time photographer there would be no hesitation. 

For years my sorrowful lament was about the prison cell that was my cubicle. I read blogs of other photographers who were in the same plight, yet, took the leap of faith and are now successful full-time photographers. But photography is NOT cheap and instead I dug myself a ditch of debt to start my photography business. It is a ditch so deep I can barely see the top of it as I stand in the bottom looking up. In 2011, I was miserable every day that I logged into my work computer and became more depressed, despondent, and dejected. I came home after work looking and acting like Gollum, corrupted by my own lust, loving and hating myself for my desires. My boyfriend, Ray, would try to be patient, advising me to make the most of it at work, that I was only making things worse for myself. His advice was received with vicious hissing and whining. I was a mess. 

As 2012 loomed ahead I knew I had to make changes and tweak my mindset about work. Weary of being miserable I looked for the positive and focused on them. Even on my bad days I battle the Gollum inside me and tell myself that God has plans for me: plans to prosper me, not to harm me, plans to give me hope and a future. 

Tomorrow when I walk into that dreary building and plop my butt into my chair in the middle of a drab cubicle, I will look around and view it as a launch pad. Tomorrow I will choose wisely.