The Pause I Didn’t Ask For: Life Without My Camera (And What It Taught Me)
- Amy
- Apr 15
- 4 min read
Estimated repair cost: $595 plus labour.
That was the quote I received after I dropped my camera. My main filming companion for years. If you haven’t read about how it happened, I shared the full story in this post
At first, I didn’t know how to respond. I just stared at the number.
This was a camera I’d relied on for so many seasons of my life. I’d carried it through early mornings, filmed with it late into the night. It captured moments that are now part of the rhythm of my channel and my story. And now, with one unfortunate fall, it all came to a halt.
The Cost of Moving Forward
After sitting with the estimate, I started running through the usual questions:
Should I fix it? Should I replace it? Should I upgrade?
The price tag for the repair was steep, especially for a camera I’ve already used for several years. But looking at higher-end replacements made the decision even harder. A better body would come with more features, and a heavier cost.
I found myself caught in that familiar loop of research and indecision. Late-night YouTube reviews. Comparison charts. Wish lists. Then, more questions: If I get a new camera, will it be too much of a stretch financially? If I settle for something smaller, will I regret it later?
I gave myself a few days to sleep on it. Then I gave myself a few more.
In the Meantime, I Wasn’t Creating
The last vlog I uploaded came from footage recorded before the drop. I edited what I had left, trying to stretch every usable second into something that still felt whole. I didn’t even have a thumbnail photo, so I used a screen grab instead. It was a workaround, but not the way I usually like to present my videos.
Without new footage to work with, I felt... off.I’m used to creating. I’m used to having that outlet. It’s not just work, it’s a rhythm that keeps me grounded. So when it stopped, I felt a bit nervous. A little empty. Like my days had lost their direction.
Returning to the Present
Yet, something beautiful happened during the pause.
I began to notice things. Noticing in that quiet, spacious way that happens when there’s no screen, no upload deadline, no editing list waiting for me.
I spent extra time with my kids in the evening. One more book at bedtime. A few extra giggles under the blanket before lights out.
I stepped outside more often. The weather had turned warmer, and the sun was lasting longer each day. I went for walks. Not errands, not obligations. Just walks.
I let the sunlight hit my skin and didn’t check the time.
I watched a full episode of a K-drama. Just a slow, story-filled evening to myself.
For a moment, I wasn’t a content creator. I was just… here.
Insight from Stillness
I’ve been revisiting some spiritual masterclasses during this time. Things I’d signed up for but never had the space to sit with fully.
And one message stood out:
“Maybe this isn’t a setback. Maybe it’s space being made for what’s next.”
Because in the world of content creation, it’s easy to feel like any pause is a setback. But what if it isn’t? What if this quiet season is where the deeper work happens? Not the kind of work that shows up in subscriber counts or thumbnails but the kind that roots you.
During this downtime, I added more minutes to my movement each day. My fitness tracker started lighting up with progress again.
My steps increased. My breaths deepened.
I didn’t hit any new records, but I felt more connected to my body than I had in a while. I noticed the sound of birds in the trees during my walks. I watched the petals start to drop from the cherry blossoms.
And it reminded me: creativity doesn’t only live in finished work. Sometimes, it lives in how we move through the day when we’re not creating anything at all.
Being a Creator Without a Camera
The hardest part of this pause was realizing how much of my identity is tied to creating. When the camera was gone, I kept wondering: what do I do now?
But over time, I realized my creativity didn’t disappear. It just shifted.
Even without a camera, I was still noticing. I was still storytelling. I was still gathering pieces of beauty from my everyday life. I was just doing it quietly, without pressing record.
That realization changed something for me. It reminded me that tools are important, but they’re not the soul of the work. I am.
Should I Repair or Replace?
As of now, I haven’t made the final decision on what camera to get next.
I’m still exploring options, still sleeping on it. I’m leaning toward upgrading. Something that will support me as my channel continues to grow, but I want to make the decision with clarity and peace, not pressure.
Budget is real. Timing matters. But I also trust that the right answer will come when it’s time.
If You’re in a Pause Too…
Maybe you're here because you’re going through something similar. Maybe your gear broke. Or your energy dipped. Or life interrupted your plans.
If that’s you, I just want to say: you’re not behind.
This moment is not wasted.
It’s a reset.
A recalibration.
A return.
Let yourself walk. Breathe. Watch an episode without multitasking. Sit with your kids longer at bedtime. You’ll return to your creative work with more softness, more clarity, and more rootedness than before.
What Comes Next
When I return to filming, I’ll bring something new with me!
Because I let this season change me.
So stay tuned. A new vlog is coming soon. And when I do finally choose my next camera, I’ll take you along for that story too.
For now, I’m still here. Watching the light move across my space. Listening to the world breathe. Choosing to be in it, even without a camera in hand.
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