First page of the Peace archive.

not easy, but easier.

Posted by jessica on May 12, 2010 with 13 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
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There is a trick to dancing; it is called relax and the movement will come easier.

There is a trick to singing; it is called relax and the sound will come easier.

Not that it will come easy, mind you. I don’t really believe that anything of value comes very easy, but there’s something about letting your body be at peace. Breathing nice and deep. Letting go of the tension. And then something else happens–it just starts to work.

I remember one time I was thinking about that verse in the Bible–the one about how Option A is to be all anxious and Option B is to be all let’s give this to God when things weigh heavy and how choosing Option B floods your mind with peace, even if not much changes around you.

And I decided I wanted to write a song about it. So I sat there at the piano and worked for a very long time. And a whole lot of nothing felt like it transpired in the next hour. Sure, I found one chord progression that I liked and so proceeded to wear it out, but that didn’t exactly feel like something to write home about. Especially since I was already home and my parents would be all, Why didn’t you just save yourself the thirty-nine cents and tell us about that chord progression over cereal in the morning?

So I gave up and left for whatever was next on my agenda. And as I was walking out of my house, a set of lyrics and a melody just popped right into my head–acted like it owned the place cause it didn’t even knock or anything.  So I ran back to my piano and, sure enough, it fit with that chord progression I had been playing over and over again. Fit like a glove. And that was that. The song came so easy when I stopped trying so hard. Not that you shouldn’t try–you should never not try–but sometimes there’s a time to walk away, I guess. To relax. To let it happen.

And it’s such a nice surprise when it does just that.

Like yesterday, when I decided to get myself into a ballet class. I even got myself into a leotard and tights, which was a nice kind of nostalgic for me. And the correction I got from my teacher was to not be so hard on myself; to relax and maybe even get rid of that determined expression that was arranged on my face. The one I had, up till that point, had no idea about. And then I remembered that I was dancing and it was like, Oh! right. This is my body dancing–moving to the music, even if it is a little piano tune and not exactly something with a fat beat–it’s still me dancing, so why not show that I love it?

Not to mention relax, too.

Which is when I started to land some pirrouettes. But not learn how to actually spell that word. Don’t be crazy.

And the thing is, sometimes it can feel like we are up against the clock all the time. The way life is arranged in increments we call minutes that fill up till they are hours that fill up till they are days. Days of our lives. Haha that’s a soap opera, which wasn’t my point. Just kidding, that’s totally my point. We should all watch more soap operas and then life will come easy.

Oh, I kid again.

I didn’t actually want to comment on soap operas at all, except to say that they give actors jobs so YEAH!

But what I am saying is that there isn’t a lot of time to give yourself to worry, especially when that makes whatever it is you are trying to do a little less likely. And a lot less fun.

And I’m not saying this because I’ve done it and done it well. I’m saying it because I am learning about this; I’m trying to relax and breathe while working hard. To remember that, though I am turning out and pointing my feet like crazy or singing something that feels real, REAL high right about now–or even going to the grocery store because my momma asked me to and let’s be honest, she’s done more for me than could ever be paid back, should I go to every grocery store in every province, it is my life. All of it. So why not remember that I love it? And then once I remember, why not show it? Just like in ballet class. And why not give myself to the work of peace, starting right here. In that part of me that you cannot see or take, that part of me that I should not forget or neglect…

when words have meaning again and the meaning is sweet.

Posted by jessica on Apr 12, 2010 with 26 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Loved Ones, Thoughts and Feelings
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I can’t go through this again, I said, suddenly serious.

Yes, you could, my friend Christian told me, just as serious.

No, it’d kill me. I can’t, I just can’t, I kept repeating.

No, you’d get through it. Just like you get through all of life, he assured me.

And then I told him I’d kill myself, but neither of us really believed it. Because I wouldn’t, but still.

We were talking about me and marriage and whoa. I know that might sound crazy, but it’s me we’re talking about here; and in case you don’t know, I talk about everything. Well, with some people, anyway.

And when I talk about marriage in the case of me, I generally say if while my friends say when. And when I asked Christian how weird–on a scale of one to ten-he thinks my life is, we both decided on twenty (at least) and then started laughing.

Because, seriously. Who would have thought? I still shock people quite regularly by giving them an outline of the recent events of my life. As in: I’m single now. S-I-N-G-L-E. Yes, I know he seemed like he was “really on fire for the Lord,” as one person recently put it, but well, things didn’t work out, anyway.

And the thing is, they don’t even know the half of it.

Just like me. At least, the way it was for a long time.

But now I know the whole of it and I’m grateful to be out of it. And I’d rather feel a little lonely sometimes when I am all by myself, then very lonely when I am with somebody who claims to be a husband.

I like this feeling, lately. I think it might be peace. Isn’t that a beautiful word? And what makes it beautiful is the concept behind it. Because sure, the e and the a sitting so close, making a nice, strong and two-letter-deep sound that neither of them could make very well on their own doesn’t hurt either, but I love the word because of what it stands for.

And you could talk to me about peace for hours and hours; we could even watch a movie chronicling peace that Quentin Tarantino himself made, but if it’s not something that’s in my heart, I guess I’d lose interest or stop believing after a while.

Because eventually it’d be like randomly saying peace to the soldiers marching in Pickett’s Charge in Gettysburgh while all their friends are getting shot down around them. War is obvious in the cadence of their marching, always marching, towards an end that is not necessary; not if this world were the way God dreamt it, I think. But I guess it’s the way we wheel and deal our free will as if we’re peddlers, each of us with an angle, each of us with a gimmick and a jingle to keep them coming back, even if it’s a place that hurts rather than heals. I suppose that is what makes war necessary sometimes. But God, I wish it weren’t.

But if you’re saying peace over and over again in the midst of all that, the word starts to mean nothing.

Which is what the word trust became for me. Nothing. But I kept hearing it; he’d even get upset with me for not holding fast to it, but there I was, watching everything fall down around me. Wondering at the secrecy. At the lack of communication. The lack of care. The lack, the lack, the lack.

And now it all makes a kind of sad sense. But the sadness is trailing behind, I think, in this race for my heart, while the sense of freedom is maybe pulling ahead now. And certain words that had lost their meaning in my life are once again conceptualizing right before my eyes.

Trust.
Peace.
Love.
Forgiveness.

And I find myself loving those words like they are family itself. I gather them close to me, holding them with the kind of urgency that spells out to the world that I’m not afraid for anybody to know how much I need them.

Because God, I need them to mean something and it’s because of God, I think, that once again, they do.

Well, God and people.

Some of the best darn people in the world, I think.

images. words. cause it IS a blog.

Posted by jessica on Mar 29, 2010 with 18 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Performance, Thoughts and Feelings, photography
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These *images are from the piece I recently choreographed, Sariel. Strong. Together. Held. Surrounded. Weak. Broken. Sustained. Carried. Lost. Resilient. Humbled. Bereft. Grasping. No longer empty handed. Found. How can a person be all of those things? How can we burst at the seams with how we feel and still eat sandwiches because, by the [...]

whoa vs. woe

Posted by jessica on Mar 8, 2010 with 24 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Loved Ones, Thoughts and Feelings
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Someone left me a nice little note on the keyboard I play at church today. Someone else made me a purse. Like that’s normal. Like everybody goes around making things that most of us only buy. Someone made me cookies a few weeks ago. Someone(s) sent me flowers on Valentine’s Day. Someone else gave me [...]

finally weightless

Posted by jessica on Nov 21, 2009 with 7 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
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Peace. But what about the experiences that would teach any sane person to be anxious?Sometimes it’s hard to know what to do with it, and it feels crazy to not feel anxious. But then there’s God and he messes up the equation and the sense life makes, I suppose. He talks about peace and it [...]

peace

Posted by jessica on Jun 20, 2009 with No Comments
in Loved Ones, Thoughts and Feelings
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Drew. Such a small word for such a big heart. He’s a lifeline to me. A mirror that reflects me in a way that is far too generous. He’s not close right now, but he is, he is. He’s right here, safe in my thoughts, causing me to smile for a reason that to all [...]