It was something very random.
A bit out of context and I wasn’t even sure if I heard it correct.
Because we weren’t speaking about this topic.
At all.
However the story stayed with me.
Or just the words that were said.
It was something along the lines that some cultures think that photos or photography can take away your soul.
I was shocked when I heard that.
I almost couldn’t believe it.
I was silent for a little bit.
I needed to let that sink.
And while I was doing that.
In that moment of time I saw the future passing before my eyes.
A relationship with a photographer.
Or just a fling.
I couldn’t really distinguish those two things, really.
I think it’s because I have been out of love for more than a year.
I need to learn to fall back in love again.
Perhaps just with myself.
It wasn’t that important, though.
For that moment when I saw the future flashing before my eyes.
Actually how I felt at that moment was.
Don’t ask me why.
Gentle and warm is what it was.
I felt a little bit in love.
When his arms were around me.
That is how far I was letting things happen between us.
Enough for me to see what else was going to happen.
What was going to happen in the future.
With me and him.
A meeting in time and space.
Where we were drinking coffee and laughing a lot.
We were talking a lot, also.
If you know me a little bit, that shouldn’t be much of a surprise.
But only when I am comfortable.
He was amazed by my beauty.
Couldn’t take his eyes off of me.
Something I was sensing from him.
He was letting his eyes speak.
It wasn’t that hard to get.
I let him do it also.
It was making me feel good.
That someone could do that so openly.
While I wasn’t that far with myself.
I am still finding out what it is to be different.
An insecurity still to me.
Scared I am.
From the inside.
About that.
I am watching a lot of content on social media.
From ‘others’.
Don’t know if you can say it like that.
To me it makes sense at least.
To have a framework for me to understand.
And have a sense of ease.
But for him it isn’t really something to be bothered about.
He just takes as many pictures as he likes.
About me, mainly.
In my turn I am also not so bothered about that.
He wants to keep those photos for his memory.
For his heart and soul.
Not only for his camera.
Not really in a professional way, so to say.
However he does make his money with photography.
I think you can say he was a professional.
But from the inside I think he is a shaman.
Yes, I know.
I need to let that story unfold by itself.
That is his journey and something I can give back in return where he gives me space to be comfortable with myself.
I can teach him the tricks of shamanism, since I made that journey in myself already and overcome those fears of spirituality and how to use that inner wisdom of healing and helping others.
That is what shamanism to me is at least.
A great give and take.
A story of love is how it sounds to me.
It took a little while to open myself up for him.
It was, because I am different.
A discovery of myself I still am a bit insecure about.
Or finding my way in.
But that didn’t prevent him from taking his pictures of me.
A ground and platform for our love to become strong and flourish.
At least I hope it will be like this.
And not just another story in my journey of love.
It makes me sad if it would stay in black and white.
Or just on my website, so to speak.
But I learned when we express it on paper or say things out loud.
It will become one’s reality.
I truly hope it will.
Because when I think and feel what it could be.
It is making my heart sing.
Perhaps his pictures are taking away that part of my soul that shouldn’t belong to me.
A love that will last a lifetime.
How long that may take.
I am just scared to meet him.
But what if it becomes the greatest love of all?
Or just one that is adult and secure?
Some questions I am asking myself.
I am just not so sure about that.
But the feelings were so good in that moment that I was seeing the future flashing before my eyes.
And with that I am standing with my feet in the living room, again.
Holding the chair, listening to that person who said those words.
I needed the chair so it would prevent me from falling down.
From the information I just had heard.
About cultures that believe photography can steal your soul.
I still can’t believe that.
‘Do some cultures really believe that photography can steal your soul?’
That is the question I am asking myself.
‘Or can we use it to take away that part of our soul that shouldn’t belong to us in the first place, but just became something we started to believe it was our soul?’
Just another question that is popping up, in myself.
I don’t even remember anymore who it was that told this story to me.
That photos can take away our soul.
However it wasn’t that long ago.
Perhaps just a month from the moment I am writing this story.
It is now April 2024.