so this past sunday was oscar night, and while one movie came away empty-handed in all of its nominated categories, it still has a special place in my heart.
moneyball.
the baseball movie, with brad pitt. based on the true story of the oakland a's and their general manager's attempt to "change the game."
getting to australia was no short trip. (six hours from dc to san francisco and another 14 hours from san francisco to sydney). so i got to watch a lot of movies. moneyball happened to be shown on two legs of my trip. and i watched it twice. not just out of boredom, but because i really liked it.
at one point in the movie, billy beane (brad pitt) is with his daughter, and she plays him a song on her guitar. she has a beautiful voice, and it's a wonderful portrayal of a sweet moment between an encouraging, loving father and a talented, but unsure daughter (in fact, the look on brad pitt's face during minute 1:37-1:42 really gets me).
the movie introduced me to the song, which is performed by an artist named lenka. and the lyrics made me love the song, which does a great job capturing a lot of what i often feel.
here's a clip from the movie....
i'm just a little bit caught in the middle
life is a maze, and love is a riddle
i don't know where to go
can't do it alone, i've tried
and i don't know why
i am just a little girl lost in the moment
i'm so scared, but i don't show it
i can't figure it out
it's bringing me down, i know
i've got to let it go
and just enjoy the show
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
new experiences
though it may not seem like it, i'm still here.
it's certainly been awhile, and it seems that whenever a lengthy time has passed since my last post, i feel like the post that brings me back should be pretty significant. but i've realized that kind of thinking tends to keep me away. so i've made up my mind that even if it's not that exciting, or if it sounds like the same sad tune, i'm going get things out here. after all, writing here has helped me make it to this point -- a place i think is considerably good -- and i don't want to stop my progress now.
so what has been going on in the last few months?
i've been working hard at my business (something i haven't talked much about here, but i will in the future).
i took an amazing trip to australiaaaa (say it in your best oprah winfrey voice, please). with need for only one window seat. my two weeks there were wonderful for lots of reasons. for the beautiful views. for the chances to meet new people. for the new experience of traveling on my own. for the books i got to read (johnathan livingston seagull, by richard bach. the help, by kathryn stockett. me talk pretty one day, by david sedaris. and mere christianity, by c.s. lewis). for the time i was afforded to reflect and process.
i learned lots of things about myself and life in those two weeks. things i'll likely share here. the first that comes to mind and that i'll share today...new experiences help you move forward.
i've known this for awhile actually. but taking on the new experience of traveling half-way around the world by myself definitely reinforced the lesson. when we experience loss, we want to hold onto the past. that's natural, and it makes sense. but living through past experiences can never fully compare to living a fully present life. when i lost Jarronn, a lot of things crumbled. a sense of identify. a sense of security. dreams for the future. if i'd spent the last 2.5 years only reliving my experiences with Jarronn, i'd be stuck in the same place, reflecting on what i don't have and can't get back. thankfully, i've been able to create new amazing experiences and memories that i reflect on with just as much appreciation.
people often comment on how i'm always going somewhere, or always staying busy. i find these kinds of comments amusing, because i don't think people understand how much it's out of necessity. the need to move forward and look forward to living.
it's certainly been awhile, and it seems that whenever a lengthy time has passed since my last post, i feel like the post that brings me back should be pretty significant. but i've realized that kind of thinking tends to keep me away. so i've made up my mind that even if it's not that exciting, or if it sounds like the same sad tune, i'm going get things out here. after all, writing here has helped me make it to this point -- a place i think is considerably good -- and i don't want to stop my progress now.
so what has been going on in the last few months?
i've been working hard at my business (something i haven't talked much about here, but i will in the future).
i took an amazing trip to australiaaaa (say it in your best oprah winfrey voice, please). with need for only one window seat. my two weeks there were wonderful for lots of reasons. for the beautiful views. for the chances to meet new people. for the new experience of traveling on my own. for the books i got to read (johnathan livingston seagull, by richard bach. the help, by kathryn stockett. me talk pretty one day, by david sedaris. and mere christianity, by c.s. lewis). for the time i was afforded to reflect and process.
i learned lots of things about myself and life in those two weeks. things i'll likely share here. the first that comes to mind and that i'll share today...new experiences help you move forward.
i've known this for awhile actually. but taking on the new experience of traveling half-way around the world by myself definitely reinforced the lesson. when we experience loss, we want to hold onto the past. that's natural, and it makes sense. but living through past experiences can never fully compare to living a fully present life. when i lost Jarronn, a lot of things crumbled. a sense of identify. a sense of security. dreams for the future. if i'd spent the last 2.5 years only reliving my experiences with Jarronn, i'd be stuck in the same place, reflecting on what i don't have and can't get back. thankfully, i've been able to create new amazing experiences and memories that i reflect on with just as much appreciation.
people often comment on how i'm always going somewhere, or always staying busy. i find these kinds of comments amusing, because i don't think people understand how much it's out of necessity. the need to move forward and look forward to living.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
tradition from tragedy
i've often made mention here of how amazing my friends are.
probably not enough. but i also don't want to get anyone jealous or anything. :-)
in the days, weeks, months and even years following Jarronn's passing, i've been overwhelmed by the kindness and thoughtfulness of many people. and my closest friends have done nothing but prove why we've been so close for more than a decade.
a few months after Jarronn died, my closest girlfriends arranged a trip to arizona for my birthday. the trip was everything i needed, right when i needed it.
one year later, in 2010, we got the group together for a trip to charlottesville, va. we rented a beautiful house and toured some of virginia's best wineries.
this year, the group got a little smaller, due to scheduling conflicts and other challenges. but six of us kept the party going in philly.
as we packed up to head home, we each shared things we were thankful for. our bonds with each other. our acceptance of one another. the longevity of our friendships. and for me, i couldn't help but be reminded of why we started taking these trips in the first place and why i find them to be so special.
i'm thankful that our beautiful tradition of trips sprung out of tragedy.
probably not enough. but i also don't want to get anyone jealous or anything. :-)
in the days, weeks, months and even years following Jarronn's passing, i've been overwhelmed by the kindness and thoughtfulness of many people. and my closest friends have done nothing but prove why we've been so close for more than a decade.
a few months after Jarronn died, my closest girlfriends arranged a trip to arizona for my birthday. the trip was everything i needed, right when i needed it.
one year later, in 2010, we got the group together for a trip to charlottesville, va. we rented a beautiful house and toured some of virginia's best wineries.
this year, the group got a little smaller, due to scheduling conflicts and other challenges. but six of us kept the party going in philly.
as we packed up to head home, we each shared things we were thankful for. our bonds with each other. our acceptance of one another. the longevity of our friendships. and for me, i couldn't help but be reminded of why we started taking these trips in the first place and why i find them to be so special.
i'm thankful that our beautiful tradition of trips sprung out of tragedy.
 |
| sedona, az 2009 |
 |
| charlottesville, va 2010 |
 |
| philadelphia, pa 2011 |
Thursday, November 24, 2011
give thanks
happy thanksgiving to you and yours.
i pray that we enjoy our loved ones, and feast not just on food but on thoughts of how we've been blessed throughout the year.
and for those who know the feeling of holidays not quite being as they used to, i pray that those same thoughts give us some comfort.
thanks to everyone who takes the time to read.
love,
jessica
---
i'm thankful...
for God's love.
for good health. for a loving family.
for beauty in nature. for new music finds.
for not taking myself too seriously.
for old friends. for new friends. for loyalty.
for confidence. for pretty things. for new business.
for the things that make us different and the commonalities that bind us together.
for delicious food. for yoga. for beautiful shelter.
for side-splitting laughter.
for my chance to experience true love.
for my chance to watch my story unfold.
i pray that we enjoy our loved ones, and feast not just on food but on thoughts of how we've been blessed throughout the year.
and for those who know the feeling of holidays not quite being as they used to, i pray that those same thoughts give us some comfort.
thanks to everyone who takes the time to read.
love,
jessica
---
i'm thankful...
for God's love.
for good health. for a loving family.
for beauty in nature. for new music finds.
for not taking myself too seriously.
for old friends. for new friends. for loyalty.
for confidence. for pretty things. for new business.
for the things that make us different and the commonalities that bind us together.
for delicious food. for yoga. for beautiful shelter.
for side-splitting laughter.
for my chance to experience true love.
for my chance to watch my story unfold.
Monday, October 24, 2011
cab rides
i've come to the conclusion that some of my best conversations take place while i ride in the back of d.c. cabs. whether it's talking about what it's like in a driver's country of origin (drivers from Sudan and i always have lots to talk about), or hearing tales of wild riders coming from adams morgan, or getting advice on my love life and the value of marriage...i'm always engaged and entertained.
i had another interesting conversation with a driver a couple weeks ago.
it was a short ride up connecticut avenue, as i was trying to make up lost time and save my feet from aggravation. the driver and i somehow got on the topic of age. most strangers tend to think i'm several years younger than i am, and we talked about that for a bit. the driver brought up the fact that age is really all relative (and no, this wasn't a set up for a bad pick-up line). that if you're 35, but going to live until you're 94, it's pretty accurate to call you "young." but if you're 13-years-old and going to die at age 17, you're actually pretty "old."
and this conversation reminded me of words i'd heard before. at Jarronn's memorial service, from the mouth of our pastor.
when Jarronn turned 29 (the same age i turned on friday), he was old. far, far older than he realized. far older than any of us realized. the understanding of this frequently bothers me. that he was so unaware of his mortality and his limited time. i try to consider whether knowing death is near is better or worse, and i can't come to any solid conclusion. but it does seem that having a better awareness of your "actual" age, might bring special opportunities to live a certain way, to say certain things, to tend to certain details.
last week my age increased, but i still have no idea if i'm young or old. i guess few of us really do. the question is...if i knew, would i do anything differently?
i had another interesting conversation with a driver a couple weeks ago.
it was a short ride up connecticut avenue, as i was trying to make up lost time and save my feet from aggravation. the driver and i somehow got on the topic of age. most strangers tend to think i'm several years younger than i am, and we talked about that for a bit. the driver brought up the fact that age is really all relative (and no, this wasn't a set up for a bad pick-up line). that if you're 35, but going to live until you're 94, it's pretty accurate to call you "young." but if you're 13-years-old and going to die at age 17, you're actually pretty "old."and this conversation reminded me of words i'd heard before. at Jarronn's memorial service, from the mouth of our pastor.
when Jarronn turned 29 (the same age i turned on friday), he was old. far, far older than he realized. far older than any of us realized. the understanding of this frequently bothers me. that he was so unaware of his mortality and his limited time. i try to consider whether knowing death is near is better or worse, and i can't come to any solid conclusion. but it does seem that having a better awareness of your "actual" age, might bring special opportunities to live a certain way, to say certain things, to tend to certain details.
last week my age increased, but i still have no idea if i'm young or old. i guess few of us really do. the question is...if i knew, would i do anything differently?
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
when i was 16
getting settled into my new place has been a steady process. i sold a lot of the furniture from the house and had to get new things that would fit in a space that's 1/3 the size of the old place.
it's been a constant flow of adding a new piece, unpacking another box, and finding space to put things away. over the weekend, i got through one of the final boxes, which contained binders and folders and other miscellaneous items from our office.
i came across a blue mead notebook, which served as my journal when i was 15/16. i was never really good at keeping a daily journal and have made several poor attempts to do so. i guess having recognized that about myself, this particular journal was more like a collection of "essays" about different subjects. it also had corresponding collages of photos and magazine clippings that related to the different topics.
flipping through the pages was pretty interesting. first, it's obvious that everything in the life of a 15-year-old seems far more dramatic than it actually is. as i read over my take on school (i was kind of angry), my first love (i was worse than a bad soap opera), and age (i was so ready to be grown), i couldn't help but recognize how time provides perspective.
i was also surprised to see that there was an essay dedicated to the topic of "death."
it seems that 10 years before Jarronn's passing, i was dealing with events such as the massacre at Columbine and my grandfather's deteriorating health -- all of which made me reflect on my own mortality, my beliefs about the after life, and the impact of losing a loved one.
in my reflection, i acknowledged that death was a part of life but still wrote that i couldn't comprehend the idea of my mom, dad, brother, or friends suddenly dying.
"we're supposed to be invincible, so how can my friends die? and how would i live afterwards? how could i look at the world in the same light? my shield will be shattered to pieces."
(i told y'all i was dramatic).
the truth is, even after maturing by 10 years, this was one perspective that didn't really change. while i knew i'd keep living, imagining a new reality after Jarronn died was extremely difficult. and 10 more years from now, i'm not sure that the sudden death of any of my loved ones will be easier to face.
but reading this, i thought about being able to respond to my 16-year-old self's questions and tell her - "nothing can really prepare you, but you'll just find a way."
it's been a constant flow of adding a new piece, unpacking another box, and finding space to put things away. over the weekend, i got through one of the final boxes, which contained binders and folders and other miscellaneous items from our office.
i came across a blue mead notebook, which served as my journal when i was 15/16. i was never really good at keeping a daily journal and have made several poor attempts to do so. i guess having recognized that about myself, this particular journal was more like a collection of "essays" about different subjects. it also had corresponding collages of photos and magazine clippings that related to the different topics.
flipping through the pages was pretty interesting. first, it's obvious that everything in the life of a 15-year-old seems far more dramatic than it actually is. as i read over my take on school (i was kind of angry), my first love (i was worse than a bad soap opera), and age (i was so ready to be grown), i couldn't help but recognize how time provides perspective.
i was also surprised to see that there was an essay dedicated to the topic of "death."
it seems that 10 years before Jarronn's passing, i was dealing with events such as the massacre at Columbine and my grandfather's deteriorating health -- all of which made me reflect on my own mortality, my beliefs about the after life, and the impact of losing a loved one.
in my reflection, i acknowledged that death was a part of life but still wrote that i couldn't comprehend the idea of my mom, dad, brother, or friends suddenly dying.
"we're supposed to be invincible, so how can my friends die? and how would i live afterwards? how could i look at the world in the same light? my shield will be shattered to pieces."
(i told y'all i was dramatic).
the truth is, even after maturing by 10 years, this was one perspective that didn't really change. while i knew i'd keep living, imagining a new reality after Jarronn died was extremely difficult. and 10 more years from now, i'm not sure that the sudden death of any of my loved ones will be easier to face.
but reading this, i thought about being able to respond to my 16-year-old self's questions and tell her - "nothing can really prepare you, but you'll just find a way."
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