Issue 04 - Progress Isn't Always Measured in Photographs
I’m writing this issue from somewhere above the clouds on my flight back to Delhi after spending the past month with my sister in London.
As the plane took off, I glanced at the date and realized something…Today marks exactly six months since the last view of the Boston Skyline faded from my airplane window. A quiet ending to one chapter and the uncertain beginning of another.
Over these past six months, I’ve caught myself constantly counting the days while also attaching expectations to each milestone.
It’s been 1 month - I should feel at home by now
Ahh it’s been 2 months - I haven’t even taken my camera out once, how am I making photography a more meaningful part of my life?
3 months - I feel like I still need more time to settle in…BUT at least I managed to be productive and launch my website and newsletter.
How has it already been 4 months?! Ahh I couldn’t even take any photographs during my trip to the mountains because I got sick. … why is this happening? I’ve finished processing images from my backlog. I need to create new work.
5 months in I’m getting in a little bit of a routine and I’m looking forward to spending more time with Disha (my sister)…Surely I’ll go on daily photo walks in London.
Every month came with a new deadline. A new expectation. A new way to convince myself I was somehow not doing enough.
This weekend, I found myself complaining to my sister.
I told her I hadn’t taken my camera out nearly as much as I’d hoped in London. That I’d missed the opportunity. That photography was going to be harder in Delhi anyway.
Before long, my mind was racing ahead.
I haven’t been to the Himalayas yet. I still haven’t explored South India. These were the trips I imagined taking within my first six months back home.
She listened patiently before smiling and saying something surprisingly simple. “Stop counting the days.”
Then she added, almost as if it were obvious: “And stop counting your progress.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Why was I putting so much pressure on myself?
Who was I trying to impress?
Why had I convinced myself that growth needed to happen on a schedule I’d invented?
The truth is, starting over doesn’t follow a timeline. Settling into a new life is messy. Some weeks feel full of possibility. Others feel like you’ve gone backward. Progress isn’t linear, especially when you’re rebuilding your life from the ground up. Even if you’re “home”.
And yet, somewhere along the way, I’d started measuring my life as if it were.
There’s a constant battle in my mind between feeling proud of how far I’ve come and wondering if it still isn’t enough.
As I reflected on that conversation, I realized I was treating my photography the same way.
The only measure of progress I was using was output.
How many times had I gone out with my camera?
How many new photographs had I made?
If those numbers weren’t increasing, I convinced myself I wasn’t growing as a photographer.
Yet deep down, I know this isn’t true. Just because I haven’t been making as many photographs doesn’t mean I haven’t been growing as a photographer.
I’ve simply been growing in different ways.
I’ve printed more of my work than ever before. Seeing photographs exist as physical prints and watching other people experience them has been wonderful. Holding a print in your hands is an entirely different experience from viewing a photograph on a screen, and I don’t think I fully appreciated that until now.
I’ve had more conversations about my photography than ever before. Some of those conversations have left me deeply grateful, especially when someone tells me those conversations led them to notice beauty in ordinary scenes they would have otherwise walked past.
I’ve spent more time curating than creating. I rebuilt my website, launched two new galleries, and spent countless hours thinking about how my photographs connect with one another.
I’ve started writing about photography through this newsletter, which has been such a wonderful way to reflect on my journey.
None of these moments required me to press the shutter.
If the last 6 months have taught me one thing, it’s this - Progress isn’t always measured by the number of photographs you make.
So I’m making myself a small promise.
The next time I catch myself expecting to be further along, I’ll remember what my sister told me.
Stop counting the days.
Because the goal was never to get somewhere as quickly as possible. It was never to have everything figured out. Maybe I just enjoy the messy middle that is life and welcome discomfort instead of resisting it.
Or maybe… There isn’t a goal at all. Maybe there’s just this moment.
If you’ve been feeling anything like this lately, you’re not alone.
Perhaps this is your reminder to stop measuring your progress and simply be present for the season you’re in.
And if you’re feeling inclined to reflect a little further, I’d love to leave you with a few journal prompts:
Where in my life am I measuring progress by output instead of growth?
What progress have I made recently that I’ve been overlooking because it doesn’t fit my definition of success?
What expectations have I quietly placed on myself this season? Are they serving me?
If I couldn’t judge my photography by the number of photos I take, how else would I know I’m growing?
What has photography taught me recently, even when my camera stayed in my bag?
New Blog: Photography Was Never Just About Photography
…It became the medium through which I practiced becoming the person I never knew I wanted to be.
If this issue resonated with you, I think you'll enjoy the journal entry I published earlier this month.
In it, I reflect on 5 life lessons photography has taught me:
Being present is a choice
Trust your inner voice
The importance of building community
Nature is one of the greatest teachers
You’re braver than you think
If you decide to read it, I'd love to know which lesson resonates most with you.
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Until next time!
Drishti
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