The Quest for Kingfisher Moments
The Quest for Kingfisher Moments
Embracing the Journey to Capture Life's Fleeting Perfection
In a riveting article by the Daily Mail, I stumbled upon the awe-inspiring photograph of a Kingfisher in a flawless dive, the epitome of symmetry and timing. I immediately saw it as a life lesson in perseverance and shared it with a friend who was on the verge of quitting, just 20 minutes into tackling a challenging issue. To paint the picture: the photographer, Alan McFadyen, took roughly 720,000 shots over a span of 6 years, dedicating 4,200 hours to capture this one ephemeral moment—a moment he had envisioned but never quite attained. The photograph's composition—its mirror-like reflection on glassy water, the pause in time before a ripple forms—is nothing short of magical. The journey to achieve it is almost unfathomable, but it's precisely such endeavors that make our world a more wondrous place.
In my interactions, I often remind people:
It takes a good ten years to become an overnight success.
Alan McFadyen may have beaten my timeline by a smidgen, but the principle remains the same. We live in an age of instant gratification, seduced by the mirage of effortless achievement. Free apps, complimentary news, zero-cost email—let's not forget the bygone era when postage was actually a thing—all perpetuate this illusion. Do you recall AT&T's 'You Will' campaign? Although AT&T may not have been the harbinger of all those technological marvels, many of the predictions materialized: Waze, E-ZPass, Zoom, Apple Watch, Kindle, Netflix, and the unforeseen luxury of binge-watching new TV seasons.
But here's the kicker: the real peril isn't just the easy access to virtually anything; it's the access to the illusion that success can be achieved overnight. Our collective attention span, thanks to social media and mainstream news, remains fixated on the dazzling endgame. Inspiration should stem not just from the triumphant outcome, but also from the arduous journey undertaken to arrive there. If you're aspiring to personal greatness, you must learn to relish the grind: the 4,200 hours, the 720,000 snapshots, the six years, and even the potential anticlimax of an unfulfilled dream.
In a twist of irony, attaining fame or financial success can be a double-edged sword. There are countless narratives of individuals, intoxicated by their newfound 'success,' spiraling into a life cut tragically short. Achieving one's goals is not the finish line; sometimes, it's merely the starting gun for a new set of challenges. Ah, the beautiful paradox of success.
The Art of Paying Attention: Proust's Lessons on Perception and Engagement
In Alain de Botton's "How Proust Can Change Your Life," Proust's art of paying attention to the minutiae of everyday existence is extolled as a virtue. The book emphasizes that it's not always about what we observe, but how we observe that grants life its richness and complexity. Applying this lens to the tale of Alan McFadyen's six-year pursuit for the perfect Kingfisher shot becomes an exercise in what Proust might call 'voluntary memory,' a mindful, deliberate attention to detail that enriches our perception of life.
Much like Proust would labor over a sentence, toiling to extract just the right nuance, McFadyen, too, put in thousands of hours to capture a moment that most of us would overlook. It's not just about the six years or the 720,000 attempts. It's about the active engagement with the world, a relentless attention to detail, and a celebration of the process itself. It's not merely an investment of time; it's an investment in perception, a way to court beauty and meaning in a world often quick to gloss over both.
Proust teaches us that the value of experiences often lies in their interpretation and our capacity for reflection. The instant gratification culture, with its buffet of easily consumable pleasures, represents a form of what Proust might consider 'involuntary memory,' a kind of passive, unreflective engagement with life. The 'You Will' AT&T campaign and the parade of technological marvels like Waze, E-ZPass, and Netflix can, if we're not cautious, reduce us to mere consumers—passive recipients in a world teeming with potential for active engagement.
As Alain De Botton states in the book:
…Which emphasizes the extent to which physical possession is only one component of appreciation. If the rich are fortunate in being able to travel to Dresden as soon as the desire to do so arises, or to buy a dress just after they have seen it in a catalog, they are cursed because of the speed with which their wealth fulfills their desires. No sooner have they thought of Dresden than they can be on a train there; no sooner have they seen a dress than it can be in their wardrobe. They therefore have no opportunity to suffer the interval between desire and gratification which the less privileged endure, and which, for all its apparent unpleasantness, has the incalculable benefit of allowing people to know and fall deeply in love with paintings in Dresden, hats, dressing gowns, and someone who isn’t free this evening.
The Art of Savoring Life's Journey: 5 Principles to Embrace
While I may not possess a one-size-fits-all blueprint to guide you through life's intricacies, I do offer you five interconnected principles. These precepts are inspired by our earlier discourse on the art of patient observation and the valorization of the journey, a topic even Proust would approve of.
Savor the Anticipation: Instead of rushing to fulfill your desires immediately, consider the pleasure that comes from delayed gratification. It's a bit like courting a lifelong crush—you learn to find joy even in the yearning. For example, I spent years fantasizing about owning a Ferrari 308 GTS, the car that starred in "Magnum, P.I." Over time, the anticipation became a source of delight on its own, so much so that I found I no longer needed to make the purchase to be happy. The desire itself had taken on a fulfilling life of its own, making room for newer fascinations like the possibilities opened up by the world of EVs.
Transform Idle Moments into Mini-Oases: Let's be honest; not every part of a journey is going to be electrifying. Embrace the concept of NET—No Extra Time—activities. For me, this means utilizing time spent in L.A. traffic to engage in what might be considered a form of "automotive meditation," an ideal occasion for podcasts and audiobooks. By repurposing these 'dull' periods, we can enrich our lives without having to find extra time.
Be Early, Lose the Rush: If you aim to arrive 15 minutes ahead of schedule, you essentially eliminate the tension that comes from time-crunch. This added cushion also allows you to audit your life, shedding activities or commitments that don't truly serve you. So, as you would declutter a room, feel free to declutter your schedule—perhaps, even with a triumphant shout for dramatic effect.
Embrace the Power of Reflective Journaling: Perspective is a luxury that often eludes us. To gain that perspective, consider keeping a journal. It serves dual purposes—firstly, as a gratitude ledger reminding you how far you've come, and secondly, as a diagnostic tool signaling when you're stuck in a rut. It's a mirror for your aspirations and your state of mind, echoing the sentiment shared by Steve Jobs in his famous commencement address: When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something. Let your journaling be that mirror.
Engage in Emotional Workouts: Inspired by Tony Robbins' Emotional Flood Exercise, which I discovered at a UPW event, use this mental gym to amplify your self-awareness and emotional resilience. If you've succeeded in making reflective journaling a habit (#4), this exercise becomes more potent. While you may never photograph the perfect Kingfisher dive, you can capture your own form of perfection by celebrating and internalizing your big wins along the way.
After a decade-long odyssey from 1994 to 2004, I succeeded in turning around a family-owned rigid plastic packaging business. Mind you, that figure doesn't even account for the six formative years spent merely identifying the golden opportunity hidden within the labyrinthine complexities of the industry. Post-2004, we experienced a robust era of success, a period that eventually segued into my current venture in startup investing. While I anticipate this new chapter might demand more than a mere decade to fully unfold, I already see tantalizing signs—road marks on this intricate journey—hinting that this endeavor could eclipse even my achievements in manufacturing.
As we navigate through the maze of life, whether in photography, business, or personal development, it's not just the destination but the richness of the journey that defines us. I'm not merely waiting for the impossible to happen on multiple fronts; I'm thoroughly enjoying the exhilarating, sometimes exasperating, but always enlightening path to get there. Here's to the thrill of the chase, to the tantalizing allure of what lies just beyond the next bend. Because ultimately, the quest for our own Kingfisher moments makes all the interim struggles not just bearable, but profoundly rewarding.
