Jennifer Bebb's Blog

i don’t like cake

For a long time, a very long time, I felt like I was able to have my cake and eat it too.

Steve and I started Bebb Studios as a part time gig in the summer of 1999. It was never meant to be our primary source of income, never meant to be what it became. Fast forward a few months and in January, 2000 we both jumped into this crazy world full time, the same week our oldest child was born.

Bebb Studios never existed without our kids, our kids never existed without the studio. It was this weirdly awesome, beyond crazy, totally fulfilling balancing act that is, in hindsight, a blur. Our kids’ earliest days were spent with weekends at Grandma’s house as we documented milestones in the lives of our clients.

Our family time was filled with side trips to pick up film at the lab and buy our proof books on the way to the aquarium or park. Nap time was spent on contracts and administration. We made our business part of our family and our family part of our business.

And it worked. I had my cake and was eating it too.

Until it didn’t. As the boys got older we started to miss things. We spent Logan’s 8th birthday speaking to photographers at a conference, listening to him cry because we weren’t home just moments before taking the stage. We spent Ethan’s birthdays shooting weddings (he is a June baby) instead of hosting a party for his friends.

We spent much of the Spring of 2008 on the road putting a brave public face while battling for my health and our marriage. We (I) buried it all under a facade of happiness, leaving no room to grieve the loss of possibility and setting myself up for a massive meltdown at some point in the future.

Our cake started to taste a little dry.

It came to a head a few years ago as we left Logan in the care of my parents as we headed off to a speaking engagement. We had done this so many times before, but this was different. This time Logan was competing for a medal in the provincials and we had to drive away, missing this event that meant to world to him. We were missing milestones and experiences that were shaping our children and it didn’t feel right anymore.

We knew it was time to make plans for change, but we had no idea what to do. We were stuck.

Until one day I woke up and decided I don’t like cake.

That day I walked into the office and quit. I left Steve with everything, turning my back on something we had put our heart and soul into building. I walked away from the business and towards my children determined to never miss another milestone.

A year later Steve followed me out – he realized he doesn’t like cake either.

We’ve been calling it a sabbatical, keeping the door open to return, but we know we are done. We’ve been done for a while. So today I made it official. I took down the website and put up a thank you message. It’s done.

I am now living a life that is more satisfying than I thought possible. I live within my needs, not my wants, and I chase experiences instead of the dollar. I work way harder for way less money and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. This is where I am right now and this is what matters to me.

scarred

I caught a glimpse of my scars in the mirror this morning. Normally I do my best not to see them, to avoid acknowledging why I have them and what they mean. I avert my eyes and, as a result, do not see my full self very often.

When I saw them today I was taken by surprise. Perhaps it was the angle or the play of light and shadow, but they did not look as deep, or as messy, or as scary.

Have you ever noticed the way the word “scarred” looks a lot like “scared”? Think about that for a moment. Scars rarely come without fear and pain and they can devastate us.

Our scars remind us of things that hurt us. Sometimes those hurts were relatively small like the scar on my wrist from an epic rollerblading wipeout. But sometimes those hurts were massive, soul crushing, life altering events and reliving why and how we have that scar is terrifying.

So I don’t look. I don’t acknowledge the legacy of these scars and in avoiding a past (ongoing) hurt, I end up making it worse that it needs to be.

Until today. As I caught a glimpse of my scars today I found myself reacting in a new way. Rather than viewing them as the ugly things they are, I was able to see them objectively and take note of how the health of my body and the state of my mind effects the look of things.

I realized then that how I feel about my scars (how you feel about your scars) is about more than what was lost all those years ago. Rather, how I feel when I look at these deep divots in my gut depends on how I feel about my whole self in that moment.

And today I was (am) feeling good about my body and the choices I am making about it. I am feeling strong and healthy thanks to good food, daily movement, and restful sleep. Despite a really hard day yesterday, I woke with confidence and excitement today. Weeks ago a day like yesterday would have lingered with me, today it was simply part of yesterday.

Our scars are reminders of what was, or what might have been. They are an integral piece of our history and our story. They are not what defines us and they should not be what stops us. Yes, they are often deep and yes, they often represent loss and/or fear. But they are also a reminder of what we have fought through and overcome.

Look at your scars. Look at the way the skin has knit together and the way your body continues to move. Look at the way you have continued on and the successes you have experienced. Look at the sadness you may still carry and know that it’s ok to feel the sting of loss. Look ahead to the joy waiting for you and the life that may be different than you expected, but is wonderful in a whole new way.

remembering

It is easy to forget where you have been, especially when you are so busy getting where you want to go. The speed limit, it seems, is so much faster than it was once upon a time and it’s tempting to push hard up against that limit without completely breaking the law.

But you can only run so far, so fast, before you must stop. You must…you cannot go on forever without pausing for breath.

It is in those times of quiet and stillness that we must reflect on where we once were and how it felt to be there. It’s easy to look back with nostalgia filled eyes and the distance of time. It’s easy to brush aside the hurt never resolved or the circumstances of painful choice.

I say this from experience, friends…pushing on for too long without resolution leads to larger problems long term.

If you’ve been with me during my sporadic blogging on this site you know that my blog is my outlet. I share with my words and my words are my heart. In the writing of these posts I release so much emotion to my readers. In turn you inspire me with comments and kind notes and I thank you for that.

While this place, my place, has allowed me an outlet for so many things, those things are still there and still long for attention, even if that attention is tempered by time. Every so often I feel compelled to go back through and read those words again and I am stunned at how far I have come while not coming very far at all.

Today I came across something long forgotten that brought me to grateful tears. It was a comment, never published at the author’s request, left in 2009.  I will not publish it here, but I would like to share a passage that has stayed with me all day:

“I have many times looked at your gorgeous work, but never read your own personal posts. Today I did, and then I read and read back in time and then a half hour later snapped out of the Jen Bebb trance and thought to write a little bit back.. seemed only fair after taking in so much from you that I would share a word or fifty with you.”

We must return to where we have been to best understand where we are going and why. Remembering and honouring that which compelled change is a necessary part of humanity. The only way I have found to keep moving ahead is to invite the past to walk alongside, and not behind me.

 

start at the end

When something ends it is done, right? That’s what an end is – it is the conclusion, the farthest point, the termination. We are taught that we need to “fight to the finish” and push through to the end.

What if we started at the finish instead? What if the end was actually the beginning?

I started googling quotes about finishing things (I love quotes – one day I want to be quoted) and I found a lot of them. Every one of those quotes focussed on being first or not quitting. I found plenty to tell me that coming in first was the only option and anything else means I’m a loser.

I would argue that finishing isn’t really the best thing for us. To finish means something is complete (it’s the end), but unless you are running in an actual race, why do you want to be done? What benefit is there is terminating your goal/dream/life?

What if we try this…let’s start at the end and throw the idea of a finish line away. Let’s use our goals as benchmarks rather than end point, and our dreams as motivation rather than the culmination of something. If we reframe the way we think about the finish line, we reframe what success and achievement look like.

The best analogy is the weight loss one. How often does someone lose weight for an occasion? How often does someone have a goal weight in mind? What happens when the party is over and/or the goal weight is met? Nothing. All too often old habits emerge and the person who just achieved their goal slowly starts moving backwards towards the beginning.

You see, when there is an end there is no reason to continue moving forward. You are done, fini, complete.

And that is where we must start in order to be successful and happy long-term. We must fight beyond the invisible finish line and realize that we passed a mile marker, not the end of the road. When we do that, when we understand the the end is actually the beginning over and over again, we are able to keep moving forward and to achieve more and more.

Your pace will vary, your race will be long, but the sense of accomplishment will be incredible – trust me.

Begin at the end. Or better yet, throw the idea of “finish” away completely.

 

 

 

 

 

what scares you?

I feel like I’m scared a lot. A lot.

I’m not afraid of the dark or of strange places and funny noises. Rather, I’m afraid of living a life without meaning, of screwing my kids up, of running out of time, of running out of space. I’m afraid of being forgotten and afraid of being remembered. I’m afraid of dying young and afraid of outliving my children.

In other words…I’m human.

The older I get the more fearful I seem to become. Perhaps it’s that the clock is ticking a little louder these days and I wonder if I have time to get it all done. There is just so much left on my list.

Here are just a few of things I want to do:

- write and publish a fiction book, sell a gazillion copies, and get rich

- write a screenplay

- explore the world with my family by my side

- do something that matters, something that changes the world

- empower my children to relentlessly pursue their dreams

- be proud of my body, whatever it looks like

- make a difference by empowering others to greatness

- speak at the UN

There are some grandiose ideas on that list, aren’t there?  Can I do them all? Of course I can. The real question is what is stopping me.

What is stopping you?

Let’s be totally honest – the only thing stopping you (me) is you (me). And I think that’s where the fear creeps in. If the only thing standing in my way is me, then I can’t blame anyone else, I can’t wait for permission to get started, and there is no reason not to start.

You are stopping you. I am stopping me. That’s it – no one else is keeping us from at least trying to chase our dreams. No one.

Get out of your way. Get it done.  And while you are doing that, can you please remind me to get out of my way too?

 

 

the game

A funny thing happens when you watch your kids play sport. There is a mix of emotion – pride, excitement, fear -combined with the overwhelming desire to see your child succeed.

This deisre for success, I have found, isn’t tied to a win or a loss. For me, it has more to do with watching them contribute to the team by doing their best, whatever that looks like. Like anything, there are days when your child excels and there are days when he doesn’t.

The funny thing I see, though, is the anger and disappointment parents express when their son/daughter is not playing their best game.

(Did you read that last word…GAME.)

I have heard parents chew out the child when the game is over. The whole way to the car the parents are pointing out what the player did wrong, what they should be doing better, how the loss is on their shoulders, and how they didn’t drive all that way just to watch them lose.

I’ve stopped judging this and find myself observing instead. How can I judge when I also feel many of the same things, when I find myself frustrated or disappointed at times. It seems that there is this kind of visceral emotion parents feel at these times – almost as though they are on the field themselves, not merely watching their kids.

I wonder if we, as parents, worry that our children’s play will impact how people feel about us? That’s kind of egotistical, right? When I look at the players on the field I don’t judge their parents. These are kids who are still learning how to play a sport. This is a game, a competitive game no doubt, but a game nonetheless.

Is there a solution to this? Probably not. As the boys get older and the game becomes more competitive, I see less of this thing. It’s not gone, but the parents seem to realize that there are good games and bad games and that their kids are only human too.

In an effort to freeze the time that is going way too fast, I’ve started shooting what the boys love. There will be a lot of lacrosse on this blog so look away if you don’t like it. Or just read the words and ignore the images – I won’t judge you. I never thought lacrosse would become such a large part of my life, but my boys love it and so, I have learned to love it too!

when fear won

Has fear ever been the winner in your life? Were you once brave, but slowly found that bravery replaced by caution? Did you once risk everything, sure that it would all work? Do you still take risks for your dreams? Or do you call it “risk” when it really means “safe choice”?

Did fear win?

Fear beat me. I don’t know how. I don’t know when. But it won. Or maybe fear just led the way for a while.

My sense is this is normal – that fear will sometimes win out. I feel like it can be easier to let fear lead the way and to make the safer choices. There is less stress, less worry, and less, well, fear of messing things up.

Ironic, right? When we let fear lead the way we, ourselves, become less fearful. Or so we think. 

I call bullshit. Yep, bullshit. When fear takes over you are losing. We are ALL losing. When fear is your leader, you are not living to your fullest potential and making the difference you were meant to make. You are coasting, and that isn’t fair to you and it isn’t fair to me.

I can say that knowing I let fear win, lead the way, and keep me from the greatness I know I am capable of. I hid myself from you (from me) putting on a brave face and pretending I’ve got this.

Because I don’t – I don’t have this, not all the time. I don’t know what’s best, what’s next or how I’m going to make things happen. I don’t have the answers…I only have the questions.

As I reviewed this blog, this body of vulnerable and sincere writing dating back a half dozen years, I realized I used to be brave and fearless and vulnerably invincible. I stared fear down and fear backed away. I marched ahead, despite every obstacle, determined I would beat it (whatever it was).

That worked for a while. It worked until all the things I was “facing down” became my history and rather than fighting through and for something, I was left with the sharp edges of broken pieces slowly, but surely, eating away at my insides. I didn’t understand that it wasn’t enough to battle through, I had to also resolve and put to rest those things I was fighting against.

I believe that we are all so busy fighting and forging ahead that when we rest, for even a moment, the legacy of our fight and all it means to our emotional well being, will jump in front of us and stop us cold.

Call it baggage, call it a scar, call it whatever you want. Each of us has something in our past that haunts us. Most of us have many of these things – past hurts, loss, physical injury, emotional injury, regrets, feelings of powerlessness, and more – and we bury them deep and cover them with pretty smelling flowers and a list of our accomplishments.

And when we are tired, fear takes the lead, and it feels nice to let go of control for a time.

But here is the thing, eventually you will realize that fear has taken over and you are no longer the one in control. When you do, fear has already lost and you have already taken control again. It is that simple – when you realize that you are no longer walking the path you want, you have already stepped off the path you are on. Now all you need to do is move back or on to the path that takes you where you need to go .

Simple…but so, so hard at the same time.

This artist’s life is not an easy one. We walk the fine line between emotional fulfilment and financial success. Sometimes those paths intersect. Often they don’t.

As tempting as it is to let fear take the reigns, I urge you to resist and fight through whatever is in your way.

Fear will still win the day sometimes, but it doesn’t win my life.

 

my wish for you

be brave, but not fearless

be strong, but not invincible

be wise, but not all knowing

be vulnerable, but not weak

be hopeful, but not blindly optimistic

be brilliant, but not so bright you burn others

be perspicacious, but not pretentious in your intelligence

be humble, but not inferior

discomfort

My post on adventure was incomplete…I shared what we are no longer doing, but left out what we are doing.  Steve’s story is his own to tell, but I will share mine with you all.

When I walked out of our studio with defiance and a little bit of fear of what was next, I stumbled across a job posting that seemed tailor made for me. Yep, you read that right…a job working for someone else.

I looked at it for a while. A long while. And then I showed Steve who commented “that was made for you” and turned back to his work. So I looked at it again, paralyzed by a flurry of unexpected emotions. I was equal parts hopeful and uncomfortable in that moment.

The emotion that took me by surprise, though, was fear. It was coursing through my body and filling up every nook and cranny. It overwhelmed me and caused confusion. As I made an effort to understand why I was so afraid one thought began to take hold: I was afraid of what people would think, about the things they would say about me, and about what this choice would mean for me within my larger circle of industry friends.

I was afraid to be seen as a loser, a quitter, a cop out. I was sure they would think I couldn’t hack it, that I was bad at business, that I had messed up somehow. I was afraid that my legacy, my reputation, and my “name” (whatever that means) would be dismantled and I would be mocked in the very places I was once held up as a leader.

Wow. That was pretty darn vain of me. My ego had definitely taken hold in that moment and exposed some interesting things to me.

So I stepped away for a moment, but only a moment. You see, I believe wholeheartedly in this:

 when something scares you this badly –  when something takes you so far into a place of discomfort – you need to run towards it as fast as you can. 

And so I did. I applied that same day. Putting together a resume was interesting and I left a lot out (they later asked me to fill in the holes). I’m sure my cover letter was ridiculous and unprofessional. I was in uncharted waters not having applied for a job in over 15 years.

Slowly, one round after another, I made the cut. With each round that passed, I wanted it more. I tried not to care, but I did.

I got it. I got the job…I was the new Director of CMpro at Clickin Moms.

I have been part of this group since April, 2013 and I love it! I am able to use what I know about photography and what I know about business, innovation, marketing and more, to work within a wonderful organization of like minded people.

And boy, was I uncomfortable.

Discomfort, I have discovered, is a necessary part of work for me. It pushes me forward and spurs me to create. Discomfort tells me I am moving in a different direction that may or may not work, but must be tried. Having a “real job” is no less challenging than running the studio, in fact I think it’s more challenging in that there are so many other factors in play.

Best of all, I am able to be part of this group while also working on What If the Conference. These complimentary pursuits feed my entire soul…I am a teacher, a leader, an image maker, a team member, a mentor, a friend, an innovator and a dreamer. In other words, getting a job pushed me to be better at everything.

Get uncomfortable. It’s worth it.

love

I saw love in it’s purest form recently and it danced in front of me.

I saw love between two people who were newly together. They shone. They sparkled. They were beautiful.

This love was not new, it was simply newly acknowledged, for in seeing them I wondered how they were ever not together. They resonated with an energy neither had had before.

I knew them apart and there were lovely. When I saw them together who they were before seemed pale in comparison. You see, this love was scandalous – two other things were dismantled so these lovers could be together. Yet it was so, so obvious to anyone who looked that this love was something that simply had to be.

And they danced… …they danced together, the only two people on the floor, allowing the music to wash over them and bring them joy. All who saw them stopped for a moment to watch, captivated by the abandon with which they moved.

They were love.

…In love.

…Of love.

Love.