"The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now".

Despite my love for the craft and years of training, it has taken me a long time to call myself a photographer.

What is a photographer, anyway?

In high school I studied photojournalism and wrote about Steve McCurry and Dorothea Lange. I marveled at their work and impact. I continue to seek out the work of photojournalists today, along with my voracious appetite for news. My deep respect and admiration for the people who capture the images, along with the story, also left them up on an unobtainable pedestal. Was I able to tell a story like they did? These are true photographers, and I am merely playing around and enjoying my lens view.

I appreciated photography, all aspects of it, so much, the preparation, process, and end result. I take so much pleasure in looking through wedding photos and portraits. Images I love, because they capture emotion, relationships and beautiful settings. I imagined the strain of being a "real" photographer and carrying that title. Plus, there was all that lugging around various lenses, and lighting equipment, and hours spent selecting and editing photos. I told myself they were true photographers, because they had all the tools and made serious money.

I recently heard Elizabeth Gilbert on her "Magic Lessons" podcast describing this struggle “Sometimes we honor art so much we think the stakes are higher than they are.” Art is, after all, about self-expression and creation. And when you're worried too much about the formality of it all you stifle both. Which is detrimental to growth. Around the same time that I heard the Magic Lessons episode, I was reading Seth Godin's blog post in which he bluntly points out, "You can be perfect or you can make art."

Point taken, universe.

So here I am, planting my tree. It’s over a decade late, but apparently this very moment is the second best time to plant. I am a photographer, and have been since I was 15.

I am a photographer because ever since my first photo assignment, I have been seeing pictures in my head. Whether I’m walking down the street or sitting in a restaurant, I’m cropping my surroundings in my mind. I don’t always have the time or means to capture the photos I see all around me, and that’s ok., because simply recognizing it makes me happy. And I can't help smiling too when I see someone setting up a great shot.

I am a photographer because the fact is, taking photos gives me a unique type of joy. And I'm committed to feeling more joy. It turns out that's what joy (actually, any lasting feeling) really requires—a commitment to feeling it.

What are you committed to feeling? And what can you plant today to honor that commitment?