Life’s Forced Pauses

Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Jena LaRoy. 

I am a family and wedding photographer in Golden, BC, a small resort town near Banff and Lake Louise. Today, I am showing film scans from a solo adventure through Mexico to celebrate one of Life’s Forced Pauses. 

Some of you might be familiar with Life’s Forced Pauses—sometimes otherwise known as grief. 

When she arrives, your own reality comes to a halt, while life around you continues to move forward. The days unfold in mundane motions that suddenly feel weightless against the depth of what you now carry.

When grief strikes, our natural reaction is to shove her away, uncomfortable with her presence.

We fear that letting her in might unravel us, so we keep her at arm’s length.
It is much easier to ignore her than it is to let her see us. 

In life, just as in our art, the balance of light and dark is essential.
It is the shadows of an image that give the subject its depth. 

It is the dark days of winter that make the first days of spring feel joyous. 
Just as our art, it is life’s valleys that give the peaks greater meaning. 

“Life’s forced pauses” — as I like to call them — might seem like interruptions, but they carry lessons that often go unnoticed amidst our busy lives. 

I have learned that these moments are not a punishment, but rather a nudge from life itself. 

An invitation to slow down, reflect, and, in that stillness, befriend the versions of ourselves that we previously deemed ugly. 

Our craft as photographers is the same.

We capture life’s candid moments—the stolen smiles, the quiet tears, the gentle touches.

We chase moments that are not staged, but that are genuine.
I hope that the next time one of Life’s Forced Pauses shows up at your door, you invite her in.

Make yourselves a cup of tea and together shine a light on your struggles, give them room to breathe, and see how far down the well of your darkness goes.

…If you let them, your hardships will add character and richness to your life.

For me, that meant picking up my film camera and flying to Mexico — leaning into solitude, letting the light and colour of a new place bring back parts of me I haven’t seen in a while.

Sometimes, creativity becomes the bridge between who we were and who we’re becoming.

May you continue to capture life’s real, raw moments and find your own light in every forced pause.

Thank you.