living well.

There are moments that stop you and you are flooded with an instant replay of what has happened that lead you to right where you are right now. 

I'm a very nostalgic person in general. I like listening to music that takes me back to a very specific moment or time and reliving it. I love laughing until it hurts as stories are retold. But, those moments that you slam into- those are the best. 

I've had a few of them lately. 

I just got back from a trip for work where they honor the top performers in my company. It's pretty amazing that I've been invited on that trip two years in a row. There's a ceremony where you get up in front of everyone and they announce why you're awesome. I don't know what reasons they justified for my presence there. All I know is my heart stopped when I heard the loudest cheer when my name was called and then everything stopped as the movie of the last year of my life played. And, I smiled as time came back to the present.

Last year, I was shy and overwhelmed to be surrounded by all of these people who have inspired me and I felt humbled. Too humbled. Like I didn't belong. This year, they knew me in a genuine way and I was part of the fold. 

It was a tough year. That's no secret. I've struggled in ways I hadn't in a long time. My confidence was shaken. I lost my way as I pushed myself forward on a really uncertain path. 

I've met a lot of people on the way to today, but there was only one who stayed constantly behind me as she nudged me forward and occasionally guided me when I couldn't see anything in front of me. 

I gave her a hug and thanked her for the last year. For her push and support. She apparently watched the same movie I did as I walked across that stage and a tear started to form in her eye as she expressed pride in my transformation. "And, by the way," she said. "You look amazing. You look better than I've ever seen you. More confident. Happy." 

And, she's right. It's amazing what happiness can do. No diet or skincare regimen can do what happiness can do for a person. It brings lightness and glowing light. The calm spot inside of a storm that's still brewing. 

I don't exactly welcome depression or struggle, but I've had enough bouts with it to know it is kind of necessary. A sign that something's just not right and it's time to figure it out. There's always time to wallow in it, but at some point you've got to come out from your hiding spot and fight your way to home base. There's that vulnerability again as you're totally exposed. You have to spend some time in the dark to truly be able to see the light. 

By no means is everything in my life exactly how I want it to be. I don't know that I ever want that for myself. I want to constantly evolve. I want to always want better. That was the promise I made to myself this year. That I was just going to focus on being better. Every day. In whatever way I could. Some days have been better than others, but they've all gotten me here. 

That same night I was asked what I thought got me there and I just said without pause "I never gave up." I think she was looking for a more tactical response, but that's the right answer. 

In my college bedroom, I had a song lyric written on my window: 

"Despair could ravage you if you turn your head around 

to look down the path that's lead you here, cause what can you change?

You're a vessel now floating down the waterways.

You can take your rudder and aim your ship,

just don't bother with the things left in your wake.

And you walk across the stage, take a bow, hear the applause,

and as the curtain falls, just know you did it all

the best that you knew how and you can hear them cheering now.

So let a smile out and show your teeth cause you know you lived it well."

That. That was 10 years ago. And, it's today. I'm doing it the best that I know how. I'm doing better. I'm doing well. 

finding my way back.

Last month I kind of ran away for a minute. I'd been in Houston for the longest stretch of time since I moved here and needed to catch my breath. I was tired of being "new." Of having to introduce myself on an almost daily basis. Of no one really knowing me. So I fled to New Orleans to surround myself with my oldest friends in an old city.
I had just started the process of being open I was telling you about. I had just gotten burned. I was internally fighting the shut down. Literal burn out. Time out.
As my plane took off from Houston, I took advantage of my window seat and my breath was kind of taken away as I looked down on this huge city I now call home. It's mine. I live here. As it got smaller and I got closer to the stars, I felt bigger. I felt better.
I arrived in the early hours of the morning and was greeted by one of those friends. One that had at one point gotten closer to me than almost anyone. None of it was physical, but I do believe that anywhere it went, it's always been with me. And, it felt like home, too.
So, I was reminded of who I am to people who matter most, when I needed it most. But, I was also able to see who I am now.
So, I came back ready. Ready to be home. Ready to live here.
That night I went to see Father John Misty alone. I like doing that now. I just let go. It was like church. The air conditioner was out and every one was pouring sweat as we sang and had our moment. As I walked down the creaky stairs and got my first hit of fresh air, a smile stretched across my face as I applauded myself for this life I'm finally building.
Since then, I can't even begin to retell all of the amazing things that have begun showing up in my life. How much I've laughed or smiled or gotten weak in the knees or felt or hoped or lived. Those are the things that happen in a moment. Those things are comfort. They're home. A string of affirmations. Subtle taps on the shoulder to say, "There you go, you're doing just fine, sister" as I shove myself out into my life.
When you ask for things, it's amazing when they start to show up. You just have to lift your head up and live to see them as they approach. Sometimes you have to get up in the clouds to see just how big your life is. I'll bet you find it in the last place you look.

oh, she's open.

Vulnerability has been something I've been trying to figure out for a long time now. I've been told I'm too independent as if it's a bad thing (it's not). I did shut myself down though, for a while, which wasn't always a good thing. I'd start to open up a little and, most of the time, get a little burned. Back to lock down I'd go. 

But, here's the thing, that burn I was so damn scared of, has this ability to start a fire and it can ignite so many bigger things. 

I've taken some risks this year in pretty much every aspect of my life and, the best part is, it hasn't been scary. There have been burns and scrapes and bruises (there's always bruises), but they go away and I'm still here and always better for them even the ones that have left scars. Lessons learned and I keep the fire burning and move on. 

The thing is, when you're open, you're living. Letting all the good, the bad and the ugly in. But, the powerful part that I wasn't grasping is that I get to choose what stays and what goes. I choose to let all of it make me better. 

I want all of the things. I want a full life. I want to light fires. But the thing about fires is that it has to have air to breathe. It's a living thing. And it has to be done out in the open. 

I'm finding that the safest place to be is the one where you just put it all out there. Throw it all in and just let it happen. It takes courage and fearlessness and humbleness and the the first step to all of those things is, wait for it, vulnerability. 

My boss has been telling me for the last year if you're not uncomfortable something is wrong. The last time I saw her, I told her I've been very uncomfortable and she gave me a hug and told me how proud she was. That's just it. They don't call it growing pains for no reason. 

So, I'll stay out here. I'll keep opening windows and leave the door unlocked. Rubbing sticks together to keep the fire going. After all, when there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire, right?

better.

On Christmas, my sister asked me when I was going to start writing again. I mean, at some point? I have been, haven't I? It's been like a year she said. Since Wiley died she said. Damn I thought.
The next day, I was getting my big ass super strong coffee that I can't seem to make it successfully through the day without and I looked over and saw a sticker that just said "WILEY" real big and bold and I thought to myself, OK, I get it!
So here I am. Hi.
I started be reading some of my last posts. It was refreshing to revisit and see where I was a year ago. I'm not there anymore. In so many ways. But, to stumble upon a time capsule of a really positive, powerful moment when I've been feeling really negative and powerless was a reminder that it's in me and I can get it back.
2014, you've been a rough one.
Every aspect of my life got turned upside down and I just had to power through it and think about it later. I guess later is here and now.
I packed up all my things and sold my little nest and moved down to Houston with hopes of a fresh start personally and spring board professionally. I do think it can still be both of those things, but it's absolutely been neither so far. It's been a challenge to say the least. I'm not scared of those, but I can't say I was totally ready. I just took a leap. Sometimes I think running was involved though I'm not sure from what. I got a birthday card from my Aunt and she said what I did was so brave and courageous and that I've done it with such grace. I never thought about my move or myself as any of those things while it was happening and I began to cry because maybe it kind of was.
I'm not going to recap 2014 month-by-month. A LOT happened. Know that. Some of the biggest events of my life have happened. What I will tell you is that I totally lost myself. Again.
I built another big, huge comfort bubble and I was so cozy in it. But, then it popped and not like a big pop more like a slow leak and I still haven't figured out if I did it or someone else just stuck a little pin in it and walked away casually. My family got turned  upside down. My work life got turned upside down. My house was my last little bit of sanctuary until a "for sale" sign got shoved in the grass and I began sorting and packing my things. I was upside down.
The family stuff is right side up again although there may continue to be a little lean. But, for me, I honestly couldn't tell you, at times it's totally just felt like a spin.
I don't know where this chapter will take me. I do know that amazing things come out of discomfort. I was too comfortable. I want more for myself, but I wasn't going to get it in that bubble. I know I made the right decision and I've had lots of signs that confirm it. I'm always searching for the what does it all means and am hopeful for what life could be when I have time to make it so. I'm making plans for myself and I'm going to do my best to stick to them.
So, on this, the last day of 2014 which will forever go down as THE year, what I'm saying is, I've been struggling, challenged, uncomfortable and maybe even hiding, but I'm also fighting and maybe on my better days I'm a little courageous and muster up a bit of grace. 2015 is going to be all about "better." It's allllll gonna get better, y'all.

old man.

You know, there are few people in this world, in this life, that really believe in you, and, I mean really believe in you. The ones that know more about what you're capable of made of more than you know yourself. 

Today I found out what it feels like when they're not there anymore. It's like it all gets a little darker all of the sudden and you realize the torch has been passed on to you to light it up yourself. 

I was just talking about writing. I've had this feeling that it'll come when it's good and ready and I'm not going to force it it rush it. Part of that was because the last conversation I had with Mr. Hilburn he told me he knew it would take me some time. I feared disappointing him and I felt the lump in my throat as I approached him at that football game. To really face him and it. And, just like always, he didn't scold me for the choices I made, but knew that it was all a part of the story. To know he still believed even after all of his pushing and molding and not being able to fully see it materialize. I'm sorry he never did. I don't know that he never will though. 

See, Mr. Hilburn was a writer and a story teller. He never ever stopped writing. I would believe you if you told me he was writing a column at least in his mind as he drew his last breath. He knew the core of things, and most importantly, people. He never seemed to change as he never wrote anything on a computer, always by hand and went to the same restaurant at the same time in the same town. You'd see him driving around Ruston in his red convertible twirling and chewing on the top of his felt tip pen. But, he changed you. If you let him. He never hid the truth and you never wanted to hide it from him. 

So, now the torch has been passed and it's time to pick up the felt tip pen. Who knew it would take this long? He did. 

maybe.

I had a conversation last night about growing up (more or less), not doing what you thought you would be (and being ok with it) and bubbles/safety nets (and what life is like without them). 

It's always great to be on the same page with someone about these things. You don't feel so alone in it or wrong or like a liar. 

I was asked (like I have been many times), why I don't really write much anymore and what makes me want to write and I gave the most honest answer I probably ever have, but one of his insights I don't want to be true. 

He said, "It sounds like being happy isn't good for your writing." 

So, I'm going to make it not true. 

Most days lately I find myself better than I have ever been. I don't know how to be ok with myself because I've spent more of my life not being ok with myself. Sure there are many things I continue to struggle with, but most of those could be fixed when I make the decision to do so. There are a few things I wish would find their way in to my life, but I've gotten better at trusting they will come, and when they do, they'll be better than they ever have been, too. 

Somehow it's gotten uncomfortable to be comfortable and content. Someone told me years ago that being comfortable was giving up and it pissed me off so badly. There are parts of that that were true and there are parts of me that still challenge that notion and make me want to prove it's not true, too. 

I absolutely could challenge myself to get out of my bubble more. Put myself out there more. Take a few more risks. Ask more of the questions I want the answers to. But, maybe I'm just not ready for it to burst yet? I haven't been in this new ok-being-me-I-have-control-over-everything bubble very long, I kinda wouldn't mind soaking it up a little longer and actually getting used to it. 

The point is, I am living the life I want to today. How I want to. And, there are things I want more or just some of, but I know I can get them. 

I want to be more adventurous, powerful, exciting, inspiring, vulnerable, loving and courageous. I want this year to challenge me in new and different ways. I want to fill the missing gaps. I want to complete the circles. Have all the burners going at once. I want all of it. I want all the things. 

Maybe I want someone to burst the bubble for me? Maybe I need to get better at asking for the things I want? 

But, maybe, I just need to be ok with being happy a little while longer first?

And, you know what? Maybe some people are scared of being single? Maybe some people are scared of living and/or being alone? Maybe some people are scared of doing some things they always said they never would? Maybe they're scared of figuring out what's really wrong? You know? 

Maybe I'm not. 

anthems for a 27-year-old girl.

This has been a year of anniversaries. 

I am nostalgic for everything. I look for signs in everything. I overthink everything. 

But, those are all kind of good things right now. 

Boss's Day was a few days ago and when I got to work, I remembered that day a year earlier. I was offered a new job and tossed and turned for days over the decision I made. It was the toughest and most rewarding transition I have ever made. To think back to what I walked into and what I have built in a year is truly astounding. I learned more about myself in more ways and faster than I can ever remember and was able to put to rest a lot of doubts I had about myself. Is this the career I thought I would have? Absolutely never. Do I love my job? Sure do. I don't think most people really understand what I do or the work that goes in to it, and I only bother to explain it to the people who care to hear about it and that's just fine. What a difference a year makes. 

On Friday, I will be seeing David Sedaris. Literally a year later as well. On a more personal level, that trip that I really didn't have time for reminded me who I really am. From the company I kept. To the conversation over drinks. To just the "to hell with it all" attitude I had to have to get in the car and leave all of the pretty big responsibilities I had behind to do something for myself. I had a meeting to be at the next morning with my big, big boss and I drove two hours, hung over and showed up and had an amazing meeting. Another lesson I needed to re-learn. I can do both. And, I'm better for it.  

The year over all has been littered with 10 year anniversaries, most of the milestones have been connected to music (also mostly Ben Gibbard music) and the memories attached to those songs are so visceral and important to me, it has been amazing to connect to a 17 year old Jess as a 27 year old one. 

That girl, 10 years ago, was fearless. And, I had no idea at the time. She fell in love for the first time and let go for the first time without a single fear of falling. With multi-colored hair, a passion for writing and an obsession with music, everything was possible to her. She started believing in herself and her dreams. 

 She made a lot of new friends who in the last year have gotten married to the same people they would soon fall in love with, others had their first babies and a few really started making their dreams come true. 

That Jess let go of a lot of her insecurities. Wore dresses or skirts every day. Got in a car accident and was surprised to see who the first people were who showed up at the hospital. They would be some of the most important people in her life. Three of them are no longer here, one of which will soon have an anniversary of the day I said goodbye to her, others served an amazing purpose and faded out on their own path eventually. 

The 17-year-old Jess made a lot of big decisions and lived with no regrets (way before Tim Riggins reminded her to live that way) and, whether she would admit it or not, she was also really proud of herself. 

The 27-year-old Jess revisited those Ben Gibbard songs in her car and in person (you're welcome 17-year-old Jess). Lost 40 pounds, just like the old one. Allowed herself to have crushes. Got over a lot of her fears and insecurities. Took care of herself and made decisions for herself. Stopped feeling bad that things that are happening for everyone else haven't happened for her yet, because when they do they'll be worth the wait. She made some new friends and better ones with old ones. Let Tim Riggins remind her to have no regrets, Coach Taylor teach her how to be a leader and Tami how to never give up on people. She checked off a lot of things that never seemed to get checked off. Made plans for the future she doesn't want to flake out on. Tore herself a part and put herself back together. Took comfort in signs that made her feel like she was doing exactly what she needed to be doing. 

The 27-year-old Jess started believing in herself again, and whether she'll admit it or not, is actually really proud of herself.