Only a few decades ago, we lived mostly free of the strange tension between the desire to enjoy something and the desire to document it. Because we did so much less documenting, we must have been much better at enjoying sensory experiences as they happened, since we had no recourse to a "captured" version later. Before photography and videography became a reflex, it must have been exceedingly obvious—too obvious to even think about it—that the only time you can enjoy an experience is when it's happening.
But nothing can be saved for later. We can make images but we can't capture experiences.
Think of how many photos of sunsets have truly mesmerized you, and how many times you've stopped in your tracks for the real thing. We can create as many records and depictions of life as we want. But it's life itself that we actually appreciate, and life can't be saved for later.
I'm trying to re-interpret that "photo opportunity" feeling as an opportunity to enjoy something that's only happening here and now. If we can see a sunset, or a perfect morning walk, or any other beautiful moment, as something that simply can't be saved, then we're free to drink it in till it's gone.
I am going to continue to take photos, but I am going to try and stay in the moment more.
Charley