Mindful Photography: The Positive Psychology Tool That’s Kept Me Going

Unlike many people in the art therapy world, I’m a “words person.” Many of my Aha Moments have come in finding a name or label for a thing I’m experiencing. Most recently, this aha came in reading about the positive psychology practice of mindful photography, a tool I’ve been using without a name for over fifteen years. 

Mindful photography is, as it sounds, the combination of mindfulness with the practice of carrying your camera (read: cell phone) around everywhere. Capturing photos throughout your day can help you to be present in the moment, as the scene before your eyes will inevitably change, whether through objects or people in motion, shifts in light or weather, or changes in season. Mindful photography is a structure to make us pause and notice. 

I had always thought of mindfulness as centering oneself in the here and now. To be mindful is to be present, not caught up in worry about the future or rehashing the past. Experts in positive psychology unpack it a little more, defining mindfulness as a flexible state of mind exhibiting “openness to novelty, sensitivity to context, and engagement with the present moment.” 

It’s this “openness to novelty” where mindful photography finds its foothold. 

Finding novelty in the natural world. 

You’ve probably heard the phrase “what you focus on expands” or “you only find what you’re looking for.” When you train yourself to be attuned for photography subjects that glimmer in some way (maybe you find them beautiful, they bring you joy, or just provoke your interest because they are novel), your state of being shifts from passive to active. Your awareness sharpens, and you begin to move through the world as a seeker of these glimmering things. You will begin to see them everywhere. And this, researchers find, can make you happier. 

Jaime Kurtz and Sonja Lyubomirsky conducted a study with college students in which they asked them to take photos throughout the week of things that brought them joy. They found that this act of mindful photography can increase people’s happiness even more than “counting your blessings.” Why does this work? In part, because it makes you examine your life in a way you normally do not. The camera (yes, even on your phone) elevates your subject and assigns meaning and value to that which may have previously gone unnoticed. 

When I’m taking photos, everything stills. Anxiety, which I have struggled with for most of my life, melts away, and I can just see. The goal is to train yourself to always be looking. To pay attention. It’s easy to get sucked up into the mundane rituals of a day. And it can be hard to view places like home or your office or the train station with new eyes. But have you tried? 

Mindful photography just asks you to try. Not to be an amazing photographer, but just to be on alert for what you might see, and when you see it, to stop and take note. 

None of these are good photos. But they were shots of things I saw (or tasted!) that made me pause.

I have always found gratitude practices to be cheesy. Of course there is much that I am grateful for. But counting your blessings just sometimes feels like naming your privilege, which then tips me into an experience of guilt and shame thinking about all the people elsewhere in the world who have nothing. Of course a global view is important, but comparison also takes you away from the here-and-now. Sometimes what we need, for a perspective shift, is something expansive, like exploring gratitude. Sometimes, though, what you need to feel grounded is to go narrow. Mindful photography is less of an abstract exercise than counting your blessings. It doesn’t allow the excursions into guilt. It’s immediate: here, today, in front of you, the magnolias are blooming. See them or leave them. I choose to see them. 

I have turned to mindful photography to sharpen my awareness and to process all kinds of emotions. When I moved to Saudi Arabia where I knew no one and the landscape was drab and brown, I paid attention to movement and color: blooming bougainvillea, the neighborhood cats. 

In a period of profound grief after the death of my father, I captured the small moments of my family together, for the last time, in my childhood home. 

In the early days of the COVID lockdown, I photographed my young daughter in our apartment, growing and changing each day though our surroundings stayed the same. 

Seeing a woman crouched to photograph raindrops on plants by the recycling bins may look odd to outsiders, but this practice of mindful photography makes me feel connected to my environment. It bolsters my identity. As the writer Henry James put it, I am always trying “to be one of the people on whom nothing is lost.” This practice is a tool for meaning-making, which is crucial for fulfillment, for flourishing. 

WANT TO GIVE MINDFUL PHOTOGRAPHY A TRY? 

Each day this week, take at least three photos of your everyday life. Try to capture moments of joy, calm, or positive feelings. Add them to an album in your phone. You can post the photos online if you like, but keeping them to yourself is also good. At the end of the week, look through your album and notice how you feel in revisiting them.  

Often, in starting a new creative practice, working within constraints makes things easier. If you’ve never considered yourself to be a “good photographer,” you might try limiting the number of shots you take of any one subject--say, only 2-3 photos. Trying to “get the perfect shot” can be frustrating if you’re just starting out, and frustration takes you out of the present moment and into your head. Though the practice of taking photos of my observations did lead me to want to get better at the art of photography (which led to taking hundreds of thousands of shots), that’s not necessary to experience the benefits of this practice. 

You might also try a savoring walk alongside mindful photography. Give yourself a prompt: on your walk, try to take a photo of something from each color of the rainbow. Or just focus on texture, or shadows & light. 

Noticing light, reflection, and shadow. Capturing the temporary, the fleeting. 

There are no rules. There are no guidelines for your subjects. No one else sees the world through your eyes. Practicing mindful photography can ensure you’re slowing down enough to really see it. And while you’re learning to pause and see, you might also find meaning and purpose. Who knew the phone camera could reach so far beyond the selfie? 

If you decide to try out mindful photography and share online, we’d love to witness what you see! Tag us on Instagram @alexandriaarttherapy. 

Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.