🌊 The Magic of the Click
For me, photography has always been about the click.
Not just the sound, but the moment. The culmination of all the thinking, planning, and working a scene—when everything aligns and I press the shutter. That’s the magic. I never quite understood why it felt so good, I just knew it did. It made me feel calm. At peace. Content. Yes, that’s the word.
🖥️ After the Click: My Digital Darkroom
Photography doesn’t end at the click. My camera shoots in RAW format, which means it doesn’t create a shareable JPG. I bring that RAW file into my digital darkroom—Adobe Lightroom—where I do simple edits: sharpening, noise reduction, exposure tweaks, white balance. Then I export the final image as a JPG.
I admire the artistry of those who master Photoshop—it’s just not my thing. My goal is to spend no more than a minute or two on a photo. After 35 years in hi-tech, my desire to spend free time at a computer was low. I wanted to be on beaches, on rocks, chasing that magical click.
📷 When Energy Was Limited, the Click Still Called
When my symptoms began, I kept going out with my camera when I could. The adventures became fewer, but on good days, my camera and I still ventured out.
My computer, however, did not adventure. Images were uploaded, backed up, and forgotten. If I had energy to expend, it was on the click.
💾 Rediscovering Forgotten Frames
This morning, while preparing a thumb drive for a doctor writing up my spinal cord injury for a medical journal, I found a folder of untouched images. Random, undeveloped, forgotten.
This is one of the thousands and thousands of images that I have literally never looked at. I took them, copied them to my hard drive, and backed them up. And never looked at them again.
I installed Lightroom, fired it up, and developed one. And wow… it felt good to play again.
The photo was taken in the summer of 2020. Roni and I were on vacation with family. Lori, Steve, and I took a bike ride on the beach to a place they called “The Boneyard.”
What a place. Overwhelming in the best way. So many possibilities, so many compositions. And the sky—what a sky. Normally I avoid shooting in midday sun, but that day was perfect.
Now I’m off on a hard drive safari, hunting for the rest of the images from that day. I know they’re out there, waiting.
🧘♂️ Photography as Mindfulness Therapy
🧠 A Doctor’s Prompt, A Photographer’s Memory
Years later, after surgery, I started therapy to help with the anxiety and PTSD that had crept in during my medical misadventures. One day, my doctor guided me through a mindfulness exercise:
Take a few deep breaths.
Name something you can see.
Name something you can smell.
Name something you can feel.
Name something you can hear.
Name something you can taste.
And instantly—I was back on the beach.
Not as part of a clinical exercise, but as part of my sunrise ritual. Watching the movement of the water, getting a feel for the morning. Smelling the salty air, feeling the breeze across my skin. Listening to the hush before the light. No wonder I loved mindful photography so much.
It was an all-day mental health exercise—photography for anxiety relief, without me even knowing it.
🌼 Backyard Therapy: Healing in the Ordinary
This summer, as I’ve recovered, I’ve spent a tremendous amount of time walking my backyard.
Every hour or two, I’d get up and stretch my legs. My phone always came with me. I started taking photos of my backyard finds—flowers, bees, light through leaves. And of course, Trixie, my portly companion, chasing sticks and leaves or sitting quietly, watching birds.
These strolls became my own version of therapeutic photography. Each flower, each bee, each moment with Trixie was a mindfulness exercise in motion. I wasn’t just taking pictures—I was practicing visual meditation, creative coping, and emotional healing through art.
Photography gave me a reason to look closer.
To breathe deeper.
To heal.
🔑 Keywords That Reflect My Journey
To help others find this page and connect with the healing power of photography, here are some themes and phrases that resonate with my experience:
- Primary keywords: photography for anxiety, healing power of photography, mindful photography, photography as therapy, mental health benefits of photography, therapeutic photography
- Supportive keywords: emotional healing through art, photography for self-expression, flow state activities, grounding techniques for anxiety, art therapy practices, mindful camera walks, visual meditation, photography as self-care
These keywords aren’t just for search engines—they’re for people. For anyone who’s typed “photography for anxiety” or “mindful camera walks” into a search bar, hoping to find something that feels like peace. They’re guideposts. They lead to stories, tools, and communities that remind us we’re not alone.
If you’re here because you searched one of these phrases, welcome. You’re in the right place.
Whether you’re exploring therapeutic photography, looking for mindfulness exercises for photographers, or simply wondering if art can help you heal—these words are meant to connect you to something deeper. Something hopeful.
And if you’re struggling, know this:
Reaching out for help is one of the strongest things a person can do.
It’s incredibly hard. It takes more courage than most people will ever understand.
But it’s okay. I’ve been there. I’ve had to ask for help.
And it was the most rewarding experience of my life.
You are not alone.
You are not broken.
You are brave.
If you’re looking for support, I recommend visiting the Anxiety and Depression Association of America’s Find Help page. It’s a compassionate, evidence-based resource with tools, therapist directories, and peer communities. You are not alone—and help is out there.
🌟 Closing Reflection
Photography has always been my way of seeing. But now I understand it’s also been my way of healing. Whether it’s nature photography for mental health, or simply chasing the light with my camera, I’ve found peace in the click—and in everything that surrounds it.

Your Journey Awaits
I’ve wandered the shorelines, captured the light, and yes—I drink way too much coffee. Let me help you create your story.