What I learned taking pictures around the world

I spent the last year traveling the globe, capturing images through my lens. Landscape photography—especially long-exposure work—isn’t a hurried endeavor; it affords plenty of time to think and reflect. You hike to a location, wait for the perfect moment, and then journey back. During these moments of solitude, I discovered several insights I’d like to share. They’re not meant to instruct but to serve as reminders for myself. Perhaps you’ll find them interesting too.

1. If you see the picture, take it!

There were countless times I stumbled upon a scene that begged to be photographed, but I hesitated. Maybe the lighting wasn’t perfect, or I felt tired, or I told myself I’d return later. But the truth is, each moment is unique. I might come back and capture a better photo—or I might not return at all. But I’ll never recapture that exact moment I saw then. If you miss it, it’s gone forever.

2. If you did’t take the picture, it’s okay.

Before my trip, I suffered from what I call the “uncaptured sunset syndrome.” I couldn’t witness a sunset without scrambling to photograph it. I’d rush around seeking the best spot, but the stress often outweighed the results. One evening on a beach in Malaysia, I realized an incredible sunset was unfolding, and all I had was my phone. I snapped a few shots and then simply stood there, gazing at the fiery sky. That sunset remains the most marvelous I’ve ever seen, and I vividly remember the peaceful feeling of just being present. The syndrome was gone. I stood there, hugging my wife, watching the spectacular display.

Sometimes, you can’t capture the moment, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is worrying about it. Accepting missed opportunities without stress can drastically improve your well-being—and that’s worth more than any photo.

3. You don’t control the weather, and nether does it control you.

In New Zealand, I had grand plans to photograph iconic locations. I had high expectations but quickly learned that nature doesn’t always cooperate. The weather played tricks—conditions were either too stormy or too clear, rarely just right. But thanks to my earlier realizations, I began to enjoy each moment regardless of the weather. I took photos anyway and appreciated simply being there, in that beautiful country, doing what I love. I stopped letting the weather disappoint me. I couldn’t control it, but I refused to let it control me.

There are many things in life we can’t control, yet we often allow them to dictate our happiness—others’ opinions, external validation, social media likes. None of these should control you. Only you have that power.

4. Photography is about the journey, not just the result.

In 2011, I took one of the best photos of my career. It won competitions and brought me recognition. Thrilled by the success, I became obsessed with replicating it. I took thousands of photos, some I believed were even better, but none received the same acclaim. The more I fixated on achieving that next “best” shot, the less satisfied I became. I even stopped shooting for a while, skipping several countries to reflect. Eventually, I realized that if I wanted photography to remain a joyful part of my life, I needed to embrace it as a journey, not a series of destinations.

Life is about the path we take, not just the goals we reach. To achieve something spectacular, we must love the process. Landscape photography is very much about that process, which isn’t always comfortable—long hikes, heavy gear, cold winds. But I’ve come to love these challenges. They remind me I’m alive. Feeling discomfort means I’m living fully, and that’s vital.

5. Embrace uncertainty

This lesson ties all the others together. When I arrive at a location, I can plan and prepare, but I can’t guarantee I’ll get the shot I want. Accepting this uncertainty has been liberating. I used to try controlling every variable, but some things—like the weather or unexpected obstacles—are beyond control. The beauty lies in the surprises.

I recall driving through a fierce storm to Milford Sound in New Zealand. The weather was so intense, it’s hard to describe. But upon arrival, the rain eased, clouds parted, and the sky cleared—too much, I thought, to capture anything dramatic. Still, I took photos just in case. When I finally reviewed them days later, I discovered some truly lovely images.

Uncertainty is part of life. We’d like to control everything, but we can’t. We can hone our skills and calm our inner anxieties, but surprises—good or bad—will always occur. Accepting this is within our control, and that’s the key. It’s the most important lesson I learned on this journey, surprisingly revealed through photography.

These insights aren’t just about photography; they’re reflections on life. If they resonate with you, I’m glad. If not, they’re here as reminders for myself—to seize the moment, let go of unnecessary worries, embrace the journey, and accept life’s beautiful uncertainties.