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Rays of Light
As I sit here on the last day of a year that many are calling the worst of our lifetimes, I find myself oddly enough filled with gratitude. This year has been a tough one — no ifs, ands, or buts about it — yet as I relax into a meditative state, I see that through all the uncertainty, all the sadness, all the darkness; there have still been people and things that I hold near and dear that have brought me joy in the midst of the madness. There are still rays of light.
I know that so many of us have suffered great losses in this year that is unlike any other, but as I’ve seen the messaging around 2020 skew toward harsh phrases blaming the year for our problems that existed long before it, I invite you to challenge the narrative. My year end challenge to myself and to all those in my circle and far beyond it is to make the closing of this year that might be more challenging than most a practice in gratitude. Need some help to get to a place of thankfulness? I’ll lead the way.
This year I am grateful for love. The love of family and friends that withstands not only the test of time, but now the challenge of physical distance is one that continues to inspire me each and every day. I’ve always thought that love was cookie-cutter romance movies and boxes of chocolates on Valentine’s Day, and yes, it can be that, but to simplify the sensation is to sell it short. I would go so far as to say that love is what is keeping us all alive today. Love for those in our immediate circle, but also love and concern for those far beyond us that enables us to engage in protective behaviors during the pandemic shows the love we have for our fellow man. Love is intense and overwhelming and at times more than we can handle, but it is never more than we deserve. For all of its challenges, I believe that 2020 is really the year that I started to believe in love — that I deserve it, that I have it to give, and that it abounds in human nature.
This year I am grateful for art. Films, music, the gentle rustling of a leaf when I hear it blowing in the wind — whether manmade or not, this was the year that I really began to see the art in everything. I think I remember seeing a quote ages ago about there being poetry in the way that one does nothing at all. I think that’s really beautiful. In contrast to years where I was going, going, going, this year I learned to appreciate the beauty of stillness and of silence. Those who know me know I love color and vibrancy and vitality; however, this year challenged me in finding peace in moments of pause as well.
This year I am grateful for life. Oh, the grand mess of it all. And what a mess it was! There were tears; moments of sorrow that I thought I would never see the light of day again. Here’s a hint though: I survived. Far more often than my days of great sadness and uncertainty, there were days filled with moments of jubilation and inspiration. This year I maintained my health and continued to soldier on in the battleground of life and, by God, I have come out of the other end swinging! I don’t think we celebrate enough the little victories of life; the beauty in monotony and predictability and security. I’m trying to get better each day at reminding myself what a gift it is to have the opportunity and possibility that I do. The fact that life courses through my veins and I wake up each day with the chance to begin again is a luxury that many forget we have.
The list goes on. These are just a few of the rays of light I found beaming upon me in a year that seemed full of darkness. With 2021 peeking just around the horizon, don’t forget to soak up the sun. You’ll be glad you did.
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Cinema Is Here to Stay: Why “Going to the Movies” Will Never Die
I still remember the first movie I saw in theaters: Disney and Pixar’s Cars. It was 2006, I was nine years old, and life was good. I went with my entire family to the big theater at Opry Mills mall in Nashville and my dad made sure we got the whole movie-going experience — popcorn, candy, and all. I don’t know whether it was the sugar high from my blue ICEE or the pure euphoria of witnessing Lightning McQueen’s “Ka-Chow!” on the big screen, but something about that experience was magical, and I know I will never forget it. Now, some fourteen years later, I find myself (like the rest of the world) living in the pandemic-induced version of life as we know it. Whenever I turn on the news there seems to be some new casualty of the pandemic, whether that be the tragic number of actual lives lost from the deadly disease that plagues our world, or the more metaphorical losses of normalcy and predictability. Either way, this novel year 2020 has brought with it more changes than we can count, and one rather unwelcome change that I find myself reading more and more about as the pandemic rages on is the loss of the movie-going experience as cinemas around the world have been forced to shut down in favor of public safety.
My initial reaction was heartbreak. I love going to the movies! Whether it be watching a 35mm print hand-picked by Tarantino himself at the New Beverly Cinema or getting my best friends together and going in full costume for a Cinespia screening under the stars at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery, I am a sucker for the cinematic experience. I am also however, a logical human being, and I realize that continuing the cinematic viewing experience as I have come to know it would be incredibly irresponsible. We have all had to make sacrifices in the time of this pandemic in order to preserve our lives and the lives of others. If movie-going as I knew it is one thing that must go in the name of protecting other humans, so be it. I will miss it dearly, but so be it.
Enter the drive-in theater. It came as a beacon of light in the dark, a harkening back to a simpler time when we weren’t so consumed by devices and the only technology that really mattered was the kind that would show you what was on the big screen at the cinema. It seemed like an overly simple solution to a pandemic problem and yet… it wasn’t. It brought with it levels of freshness and excitement that myself and so many others had never felt before. Getting a loved one or a few best friends and safely sitting in a car and watching a movie in isolation...yet together... This old solution to a new problem was going to be the thing that saved us.
We are now eight months into the pandemic and I’ve lost count of the number of drive-in movies that I have attended. Each one has been a unique thrill and might I add, each one has been full to capacity with people yearning for an escape through storytelling that only the movies can provide. I’ve seen numerous articles about the uncertain fate of more traditional movie-going formats like AMC and Regal Cinemas in light of the pandemic and their forced closures. While these articles seem to predict a dismal future for theaters, I find that strangely enough I am not troubled by this news. As someone who loves film and the experience of watching a film with others, the resurgence of the drive-in theater has given me new hope. While I cannot with any certainty predict the future of more standardized movie-going formats, I will say this: the cinematic experience of viewing a film with other people is one that cannot and will not be replaced by streaming, as streaming lacks the inherent human connection that comes with viewing a film with a large audience.
As human beings, storytelling is in our blood, and more so than that, the storytelling experience is in our blood. It’s a tale as old as time; from human beings gathering around primitive campfires to tell stories of their hunts to the evolution of live theatre to the modern storytelling that occurs in sophisticated film and television formats using state of the art filmmaking equipment, we thrive off of sharing stories with one another. The tools and resources may have changed, but the principle remains the same: storytelling is both an art form and a way to preserve our history and as long as the human spirit persists, so will the need for storytelling.
So what can a human do on the individual level to ensure the cinematic experience is here to stay? The answer might be simple, but take a loved one to the movies! The best advice I can give in these trying times is to be safe and continue to show support for your local theaters however that is possible for you. As a patron of the arts, this might mean going to physical outdoor drive-in screenings or perhaps donating to a struggling theater. It could even be as simple as spreading the word about their events, their merchandise, or their fundraising campaigns to open once the world resumes “normal” activity. Above all, lean into your creative spirit that longs to hear finely crafted stories and never, ever give up hope and belief in human connection.
P.S. If anyone is in the LA area and needs recommendations of drive-ins or other cinematic experiences to partake in, feel free to reach out to me! I’m an open book and I love sharing these film-loving experiences with others. I would be happy to share my words of wisdom with you, just ask!
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Reality in Motion
Leave it to me to find a Tame Impala song title that perfectly matches the situation of my life. Folks, I try not to be predictable but sometimes...well, sometimes I have a brand and I stick to it. Anyway, I digress — onto more important discussions!
It’s strange. I think my whole life I had come to understand that people grow up and they become one thing. “When I grow up, I want to be an astronaut...a veterinarian...a lawyer!”. You’ve heard it all before. Children with their aspirational fantasies of living out a dream job; “What do you want to be when you grow up?” is among the oldest questions in the book. When asked that lofty question I’ve always been in the camp that wants to immediately give my response of “Well, happy”. But in all honesty, my career aspirations have fluctuated back and forth for as long as I can remember. Some of the highlights have been fashion designer, president of Japan (don’t, actually do ask), and obviously the more recent and immediate career goal: actor. For someone who hates labels and the idea of being identified by their surroundings, I sure have found a lot of solace in reducing people to their simplest terms by mentally categorizing them by the jobs they do. Sure, it’s made it easy to group people, but at the end of the day what am I getting out of that? I’m losing the thing that I take so much pride in for myself personally — that overwhelming sense that people are more than their labels; they are multi-dimensional, multi-faceted human beings that each bring a plethora of unique skills to the table. People are living, breathing majestic creatures that can’t be contained by one singular descriptor, and I should do my part to go beyond the label and get to know the person rather than what I essentially deem to be their “function”.
All that to say, this pandemic has really forced me to look inwardly and reflect upon the things I value and the mark I want to make on this world. Hours upon hours left to my own thoughts have made me “get real” with what I view as important and I’ll have to admit, it can be a bit unsettling. When left fronted with only the essentials, what do I really want to do with my life? Who am I when no one’s watching? And how do I turn this person into an asset, someone that will benefit myself and others? These are all questions that have come to mind while I continue to play the “long game” of life and try to find the purpose that I so desperately cling to. At times I find myself wishing that I could be content with sinking into a label. If I could find inner peace from calling myself a dentist and living out my dental goals and aspirations for the rest of my life, boy would that make things a heck of a lot easier. Nothing against dentists, they’re awesome and without my regular appointments I’m not confident I would have any teeth left, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make here; the point I’m trying to make is that I’ve never been okay with being just that thing. I think if I were called to being a dentist, I would first and foremost need to identify myself as a healer, someone who helps others and benefits them by giving them tips about their hygiene and is improving upon others’ lives in some way. And then I would need to share with others that I’m not just a dentist, I’m a dentist who loves the Beach Boys and makes a killer apple pie! Or something along those lines. This is just an example I’m making, but my point is still there: People are more than their careers and reducing them to the lowest common denominator might make for short-term understanding, but in the long-term some of their personas get lost in translation if we oversimplify.
If you’ve read this far, you’re probably like, “Okay Jasmine, I get it! Brush your teeth and don’t judge people! I got it, but what does that have to do with you?”. Well, let me tell you!
I think first and foremost on this planet, if I have to leave a legacy I want to be known as someone who cares about people. Empathy has always been one of my strong suits, almost to a fault, and I’ve found that the best way I know how to do that and use this tool to my advantage is in the form of storytelling. Especially being someone who cares so deeply about telling my own story, of course that has a natural progression to my career and life goals in that I want to help other people tell their own stories. All that to say, I’m realizing that the tools before me and the way I wanted to get these essential messages across has over the course of this quarantine received a kind of paradigm shift. It might not be as big or as grandiose as I’m making it to be, but it sure does feel like it.
When I think again about storytelling, I keep going back to the idea of self-expression, both in myself and in others and the machinations of how to go about doing that. I’m trying my best as an adult to lean into everything I’m feeling, even the scary and uncomfortable feelings because I know from those the most growth occurs. To get specific, in short, I had a moment of keen awareness where I realized that in the linear structure of my life, fashion has played a large part in that and in my own definition of myself, and to the best of my ability I want to share this gift with others. If you know me at all, you probably know that I have a love of vintage, whether that be fashion or music, and I’ve realized now more than ever that this love goes beyond just an aesthetic. I appreciate the history that comes with vintage — both the stories that come with its origins and the new stories that will be shaped by its repurposing the second time around. How that plays a part in my own life I thought remained to be seen, but now almost two months into the vintage store that I had created with my dear friend Olivia, I am realizing that this is something tangible that I can do something with.
And in my moment of breaking things down just to build it all together again (the age old pandemic tale!) I found myself panicking a bit; how could I be into both acting and fashion? Don’t I have to pick one? I was going to do some bit where I divided my thoughts here into the short answer and the long answer but I realized as I was typing this out that there was only ever one answer to that question to begin with: “Don’t I have to pick one?” NO.
The art of creation has never been as simple as this or that. I’m realizing so much that life is not made up of as many black and white, either-or scenarios as my brain sometimes perceives. In this case, the only person that was making me choose was...well, myself. And once I realized how silly I was being in that regard, I felt so much more free. I gave myself the permission I needed to again dream big and lean into my own feelings and the pathway became that much clearer.
One existential crisis (or existential rebirth, you decide) later, I have officially committed to the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in LA for further schooling and I couldn’t be happier or feel more whole after making this choice. I feel simultaneously as if I am turning a new corner and going back to my roots all in one and I love it.
Whether you’re just getting to know me now or you’ve known me from the very beginning, I want to say thank you for those reading this and for all of my supporters along the way. I tell this story not to get a pat on the back for making a decision in life, but hopefully to inspire others that might be confused or questioning in their own lives. I’m realizing now more than ever that alignment comes from leaning into what we’re thinking and feeling. As complex people we are never as simple as our surroundings. I think we often get caught up in the minutia of day to day life and forget that we have so much control over the way our story plays out. If you don’t like something or something feels off, you can change it! I know for a fact that in my own life story I was feeling tired of being in the stage of letting things happen to me and wanted so desperately to enter the phase of making things happen, and I’ve finally found the best way to do that for me.
Whether it’s a career change, going back to school, or simply some time spent in self-reflection, I encourage you to take a look inwardly and not be afraid to lean into those people and things that make your heart beat a little faster. Think about what gets you going and don’t be afraid to nurture those parts of yourself that might need a little more attention. At the end of the day, our life stories are ours to tell, and hey, that’s pretty neat.
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We Are Allowed to Hope
This is something that I’m constantly trying to process myself — to feel what I am feeling wholeheartedly, unapologetically, and without restraint.
I think in this unprecedented (yes, I’m using the buzzword) age of coronavirus, so much of what we’ve been trying to accept is change, while so much of what we yearn for is normalcy. In a world where everything is uncertain and disease and even death round every corner, I know that I personally have found myself longing for the carefree days when I could romp around freely without a mask on. And then I catch myself thinking, “That’s selfish. Wearing a mask is basic human decency and you have the audacity to get annoyed by it?” I think what I’m trying my hardest to accept right now is that my feelings in this time can be a two way street: I can be annoyed by the minor inconvenience of wearing a mask AND I can do it anyway, knowing that my mask-wearing in this time is my greatest act of love and concern for others.
A lot of what I’ve been seeing and hearing lately, whether it be in the news or via word of mouth from friends, is the primary catastrophic effects of the pandemic. People jobless, people losing friends and family members, healthcare and other essential workers risking their lives on the front lines, all for this vast and uncertain beast that continues to lay siege upon our communities with no signs of stopping. It’s scary and it makes me want to shut down and bunker myself in my home and give up on life in a lot of ways, because why not? These are big things to be afraid of and fear is relentless and persistent and invasive and can just so easily win.
And then I catch myself thinking about the smaller things that I and so many others are losing in this pandemic: time with loved ones (perhaps weddings or funerals), the school/college experience (meeting potential best friends and living “the best years of your life”), vacations and “treat yourself” moments (going out and eating in restaurants with waiters NOT in hazmat suits)... the list goes on. And then I kick myself because I know there are others out there that have lost so much more than me right now and will lose so much more than me; I’m one of the lucky ones right now.
That may be true, but I want to challenge this self-talk narrative.
This goes back to life experience and emotion being a moving two-way street. People, myself included, are allowed to be sad about loss, however large or small that loss may be. If we continue to turn our grief into a grief contest, we’ll only drive ourselves crazy and make ourselves more resentful of the current situation and state of the world. Just because someone “has it worse than you” does not mean that you need to wholly invalidate your own feelings. We are allowed to grieve normalcy. We are allowed to be sad. But more importantly than that, I would say this: we are allowed to hope.
What does hope look like in a pandemic?
Hope is wearing a mask and practicing safe social distancing as the utmost acts of love in this wild and uncertain time. Hope is expressing gratitude for your loved ones, whether that be hugging those in your immediate circle or FaceTiming those far and wide. Hope is not giving up on humanity right now and accepting that things may be different for a while, but the persistence of the human spirit can survive against all odds.
And it’s hard. God, it’s hard to accept these changes and sink ourselves into the so-called “new normal”. In fact, it’s probably going to get much harder before it gets easier. But that’s never a reason to give up. Tomorrow is a new day. We never know what the future holds. And while change may not be immediate, it is possible, so long as we never give up on each other.
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With quarantine comes open call submissions! Another one that I decided to do took me to one of my favorite films that I’ve mentioned before on this site, Lady Bird. This was a really special and fun one to tape. Earlier this year I had the privilege of going to a double feature screening at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood with my sister in order to watch both Lady Bird and Little Women featuring a panel with Greta Gerwig and Saoirse Ronan. It was the stuff that pure dreams are made out of. As always, I’m doing my part to honor the greats and hopefully curing some quarantine blues in the midst of it.
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Gratitude
If you follow me on Instagram then you might’ve seen how I am very passionate about Barbara Ann Kipfer’s book, 14,000 Things to Be Happy About. It’s essentially a long list of things to be happy about in the world, a compilation of moments and memories that make life worth living. It’s a beautiful reminder in times of darkness or in struggle that there are still rays of light that can get through if we allow them to pass.
Folks, I don’t know about you, but in these days of quarantine I have experienced more than my fair share of days of struggle, but in the midst of the madness I try to have moments of pause where I reflect on the things that I am grateful for. That is where this video comes into play.
This is by no means meant to be some high art “film” or cinematic masterpiece. It is instead a small slice of my quarantine life with things and experiences and people that have kept me going, a reminder of the good that remains, if you will. It’s snippets of my days and of my life shot on my phone that remind me that I’m not as alone as I may feel.
I hope it provides you with some peace and at the very least puts a smile on your face. These times are hard but they will pass. And in the meantime, there is still so much to be grateful for.
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The Jasmine Compilation Record (Or, 23 Quotes to Live By)
If you knew me in high school, then you probably knew me as your “greeting card” friend. That one friend that you had that was so sickeningly sweet and optimistic about the world and was force-feeding you Pinterest quotes in order to motivate you that may or may not have worked half the time, who’s to say? I mean, for crying out loud, I did my senior presentation on positive psychology (which is intensely fascinating and an absolutely valid form of research, by the way).
If you know me now, you know that girl is still in there, though maybe not as corny as I was in high school. After soaking up a few more years of life experience and some hardening and skin thicken-ing from the college experience and more exposure to people whose thoughts and feelings differ from those in my inner circle, I’ve learned some things along the way. I still appreciate a good inspirational quote and still absolutely reel after watching a film that made me feel something. I’m just slowly but surely learning what my own voice is and not to be a carbon copy of the Pinterest board of the week’s regularly scheduled affirmation. I’m learning that different words affect different people differently, and that there’s absolutely no harm in that. It’s variety being the spice of life, so to speak, that keeps things interesting and contributes to the vast array of experiences and encounters to be had in the big world at large.
All that to say, I started thinking and reflecting on what it is and who it is I get my inspiration from, and I’m realizing more than ever the impact that good words have had on my perception of myself and of the world. Whether it be in songs, films, literature, whatever; I’ve had my own experiences with people’s artfully phrased words that came from their experiences. And if I do say so myself, that’s pretty cool.
I believe that everyone you meet has a story. Every person has something they can teach you, and it’s the unique culmination of experiences and life lessons that makes every person so fascinating. We are the sum of our experiences. It got me thinking about how much I enjoy compilation records and the different songs from different moments and sometimes different artists that come together to create something beautiful. Maybe people are like that too.
With everything being said, this is my “compilation record”. I decided on 23 quotes for 23 years of life I’ve experienced on Earth and made the conscious choice to share those words, those pieces of art that have had the most profound impact on me. Maybe you’ll get something out of them too. I think in these strange quarantine times many of us need some rays of light to remind us that there’s still a lot to look forward to, that there’s a lot of life to be had and experiences to share and that it’s okay to get excited about the people that we will be when this is over while working on our present selves now.
Anway, check it out. Be inspired. And stay safe, wherever in the world you are, both physically and mentally.
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1. “I do not at all understand the mystery of grace — only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.” Anne Lamott
2. “I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.” Albert Einstein
3. “You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.” Rumi
4. “For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone.” Audrey Hepburn
5. “I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.” Vincent Van Gogh
6. “If to hunt or hide is twin-edged madness, then faith’s the courage to risk and receive.” Robert Mason
7. “It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.” William Ernest Henley
8. “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” Ralph Waldo Emerson
9. “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” African Proverb
10. “In a world that lives like a fist mercy is no more than waking with your hands open.” Mark Nepo
11. “But never have I been a blue calm sea, I have always been a storm.” Fleetwood Mac
12. “In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.” Buddha
13. “I belong to no religion. My religion is love. Every heart is my temple.” Rumi
14. “Isn’t everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more?” Celine in Before Sunrise
15. “I believe if there’s any kind of God it wouldn’t be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between. If there’s any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone, sharing something.” Celine in Before Sunrise
16. “Here’s to the fools who dream, crazy as they may seem. Here’s to the hearts that break; here’s to the mess we make.” Mia in La La Land
17. “I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.” Hafiz
18. “And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.” The Beatles
19. “When you were young and your heart was an open book, you used to say live and let live. But if this ever changing world in which we’re living, makes you give in and cry, say live and let die.” Paul McCartney
20. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.” Reinhold Niebuhr
21.”O God, If I am raw, cook me! If I am cooked, burn me!” -Kwaja Abdullah Ansari
22. “Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” Rumi
23. “I’ve never felt a pain that didn’t bear a blessing.” Gene Knudsen Hoffman
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This or That
I think this is where I’d like to insert that little joke about “being a poet, but I didn’t know it”, but that much I still don’t think is applicable. Nevertheless, I tried my hand at some abstract writing.
I think a lot of the time when I write things I’m focused a lot on the result, the end product, the submission for class, so to speak. One critique I’ve gotten numerous times in acting class is that of my “A student” mentality, also known as my need to do things the “correct” way in order to make the grade. Having been out of school now for over a year (what?), I’m trying to shed this need for validation through perfection and instead appreciate the unique perspective that I as an individual bring to the table. And it’s predictably been quite difficult.
Somewhere between college prep school and ACT tutoring, I hit my stride of being a good student as an adolescent. I’ve been learning pretty much as soon as I could walk and talk how to follow rules to the best of my ability in order to produce the desired result. One thing about being released from the school system, however, is learning that real life has a lot more gray area than that. Things aren’t as easy as A,B,C anymore, and for the most part you have to learn how to validate yourself.
I could talk about it all day long, and it’s a lesson that I’m learning and relearning every day. To get to the point of this post, though, I have to explain how I was in a way, hit with inspiration. After a relatively good quarantine day of good food and good company with my family culminating in the inspiring experience of watching Rocketman together, I started to feel my own creative juices flowing in a way that I knew only writing would appease. I told one of my friends the other day how weirdly, this experience of being left to my own thoughts and devices through quarantine has really fueled my creative side. I find myself writing and thinking more than I usually do and allowing myself the freedom and opportunity to take chances that I typically tell myself that I don’t have the time to do. My performances have been a lot more relaxed and dropped in and I find that I’m really letting myself take the edge off of life. All that to say, I’m not in any way, shape, or form preaching for a neverending quarantine, but I thought I’d share that in the midst of the madness, it is indeed possible for some good to come somehow in some miniscule form or fashion.
A lesson I’m learning in my life right now is that not everything has to be “all in” or “all out”, all doom and gloom or on the flip side, all sunshine and rainbows. I’m trying to learn to appreciate the space between and those precious shades of gray. Anyway, I wrote this abstract piece after creatively buzzing for a while and maybe it’ll make some sense to you. Or maybe it won’t at all. At the end of the day, I’m learning to be content with my own thoughts and feelings. And that is enough.
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To the sleep I’m not getting from staying up and writing this, thank you for inspiring me.
To the sleep I will most certainly get after writing this, thank you for silencing the never-ending stream.
To potential, getting wasted in all its faded glory, thank you for reminding me of what could have been, guilting me into the person I’m trying to become.
Your efforts were never really wasted, for I’m still here.
To potential, growing with me and poking at my insides, thank you for reminding me of all that I have and the good that remains.
You came at just the right time.
I didn’t ask for this, you know.
Opportunity.
Chance.
The mess of cards I’m dealt.
To be a part of me is to love me and to hate me.
Up and down.
Hot and cold.
This or that?
I can’t make up my mind. But I’m learning I don’t have to know. I don’t need to know. I will never know.
So don’t bother.
I don’t have to have it all figured out right now. Or ever.
The beauty of the mystery.
Losing myself in the free-fall.
Characteristics of the human experience;
They hurt but they heal.
I am healing.
I have healed.
I will heal.
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Learning to Skate
Friends of mine know that recently my quarantined brain decided to make the impulsive decision to buy some roller skates. I know what you’re thinking. “Jasmine, you’ve absolutely lost it. Quarantine has gotten to your already unstable brain and the last straw has been drawn.” You may very well be right with that statement, but before you decide to call the cops/psych ward/animal control on me, I invite you to hear a few words on what I’ve learned thus far in the process.
First, (and this might be obvious) skating is hard. Skating as an adult? Even harder. I remember being in elementary school and getting invited to birthday parties at the neighborhood skating rink, Rollerscape, and oh what a blissful and carefree time that was. I could load up on cake and arcade games and make a LOT of noise and no one could really tell me to stop (or they could, but I wouldn’t listen) because, hey, I was 7 years old. I miss that. I miss the ability to play without inhibition and the lack of judgment for looking like a fool. There was a certain unspoken agreement in that skating rink and in that childhood splendor that we were going to let our wildest selves run free and I find that a beautiful (albeit slightly chaotic because again, 7 year olds) and precious thing.
Second, and this goes back to what I discussed in Growing Pains, but I found myself a little irked by the fact that I wasn’t immediately amazing at skating. Sure, I haven’t skated in well over 10 years but why am I not twirling and swirling with the best of them yet? This goes back to that unrealistic pressure, that idealized notion that I have to know what there is to know because “I’m at a point in life where I should know things”. This is where I want to reiterate the lesson that I am constantly learning of grace. There’s a weird kind of beauty in the slow progression of learning a new skill, and I find that I’m learning what it’s like to peacefully fall into that and allow myself to experience it rather than wishing it all away immediately.
I think we can all agree that there’s something undeniably beautiful and pure in watching a baby struggle to take their first steps. The many stumbles, the uncertainty magnified by their reaching out, and (if you’re lucky enough to witness it) the successful transition to actually making real steps is the stuff that pure wonder is made out of. It’s beautiful for so many reasons, one being how unapologetically honest the moment is. A baby is a baby, uncorrupted by the world and not yet programmed to cover things up or to feel shame from ��messing things up”. You see how babies operate; they fall down, that doesn’t stop them! They get right back up again, sometimes even cracking a smile or unleashing a giggle at the moment before. Now, I’m not preaching to anyone to start eating Gerber mashed carrots or start wearing diapers for the heck of it again, but rather to take a look at the bigger picture: we were all babies once, and this capacity to get back up after having fallen down is innately human. It’s in all of us, we just have to let ourselves access it and learn to be comfortable with the discomfort of the free-fall.
Now especially in this dreamlike quarantine state, I think so many of us are struggling to find meaning in what appears to be a very bleak and mundane existence. Day in and day out, there’s a lot of monotony and productivity for a lot of us (creatives especially) seems to be at an external standstill. It’s corny and cliche and I’d be lying if I said I took this advice 100%, 90%, or even 70% of the time, but I am under the impression that sometimes you have to make your own sunshine, make lemonade out of lemons so to speak. This is where our inner spirit is challenged with the task of deciding to engage with our surroundings or let them wholeheartedly dictate our story. For different people in different circumstances that looks different.
Not everyone has to come out of quarantine having learned 5 languages, written a screenplay, and discovered the recipe for the perfect banana bread. For the large majority of us, we have to just make the conscious decision to get out of bed and face the world today, and that’s okay. If there’s one thing that countless hours left to contemplate my own thoughts (thank you quarantine) has taught me, it’s that I need not apologize for where I land in life or, in the case of my roller skating, on the ground. You have to be bad at something before you can be good at it. You have to go through amateur hour before you can wheel and deal with the professionals. You have to fall (whether literally or figuratively) a lot of times before you learn to walk. And some of us (me) may never become professional roller skaters. We don’t have to; that’s not the point. The point is that we tried.
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My first piece of ~media~ for the site! For Leah Daniels-Butler Casting’s Quarantine Monologue Slam I did a scene from one of my favorite films, Before Sunset. Richard Linklater, Julie Delpy, and Ethan Hawke, I worship you.
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Growing Pains
How do I even begin to start this topic? I wanted to start by saying I’ve been thinking a lot lately, as I feel like a lot of recently graduated individuals have, about my purpose in life and about what’s next for me and about if I’m on the right path, etc. Some call this spiraling, hey, I call it being in your early twenties.
In all seriousness though, I think it’s a struggle a lot of us deal with, especially after being declared “postgrad” and exiting the safety net of schooling that we had gotten so comfortable being in for the past sixteen years. Say goodbye to the structure and validation earned from the grading system that you had grown so familiar with as a student and now instead find gratification from this thing called a wage or a salary and a “stable” job. It’s a vicious cycle, and one I think that can be unapologetically cruel sometimes to those who are just trying to find their way.
It got me thinking about adolescence. Childhood. Growing pains as some call it; essentially being in the puberty phase of life where things are awkward and we fumble around trying to get accustomed to our bodies. And I asked myself, what about now? I think a lot of us look back at our teenage selves and laugh, but we gave ourselves then a certain grace that I think a lot of us don’t get now as twenty-somethings. We forgive ourselves for not knowing what to do with our bodies, but what about now, as we learn to take control of our minds? Of our spirits?
I personally love the coming-of-age genre of film. Seeing stories like Lady Bird or Stand by Me that so perfectly encapsulate what it feels like to be young results in feelings of pure joy from the resonance of life — knowing that in some way I am understood and represented. I do find, however, that when it comes to the early twenties part of life, there is a woeful lack of content to consume. And here we are, ripe for the coming-of-age taking, sitting in this confusing sort of second wave adolescence not knowing what to do with ourselves. And as I sit here and write this I am thinking to myself, “I can’t be the only one who feels this way!”
I think now, especially in the age of social media where comparison seems to be king, we see a lot of our other twenty-something counterparts with their lives seemingly together — maybe they’re married or have their “dream job” or they’re “living it up” every weekend — and we question our own validity and our own life paths. “We’re not kids anymore,” we tell ourselves. “We should have it figured out by now.”
This is the part where I take that statement and respectfully decline. I could write a whole separate piece about things I’ve learned in acting classes that could be applicable to daily life, but one thing that I have learned that I want to emphasize in my writing today is to never lose your childlike sense of wonder. And what goes hand in hand with that is the grace you give your younger self.
I want to remind my fellow twenty-somethings and even those older (or younger who feel like they too have to have it all figured out) that it’s okay to fumble and fall sometimes, to be awkward in our bodies and minds, and to find satisfaction in the unknown, the free-fall that is life. We place a lot of pressure on our adult selves to “grow up”, but in all actuality, what does that even mean? If it means being harsh and unforgiving toward myself for not having all the immediate answers, then forget it! I’m going to stay a kid.
What I’m saying now, though, is that growing up means what we want it to mean. Despite the “coming-of-age” genre in books and films seemingly only representing a younger demographic, I invite you to challenge that. I think I “come of age” every day if that means I’m learning some new pivotal lesson that shapes me and makes me better.
I was inspired to write this piece while laying down and listening to songs like Janis Ian’s “At Seventeen” and Joni Mitchell’s “The Circle Game” and I want to close out by inviting you to listen to the songs yourselves and remember to treat yourself with kindness. “The Circle Game” in particular has this line that goes “cartwheels turn to car wheels through the town”, and I listen to it and my sentimental self turns into an absolute puddle of nostalgic goop. It’s a sight for sore eyes truly, but the reason I share that with you is to remind you that those days when we were doing cartwheels really might not be so different from our days now with our grown up car wheels. I urge you to continue to be a child at heart and give yourself the grace knowing that it’s okay not knowing, and that this life has still so much boundless possibility before it that it’s too good to not lean into it and give yourself the permission to live fully.
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Thoughts on Vulnerability
Now this is a topic near and dear to my heart. I want to preface this by saying I’m not a psychologist or a sociologist or really any professional authority on the topic; however, I do have over twenty years experience of being a human being and for the sake of this brief personal essay, I’d say that’s good enough for me.
Anyway, on with the show.
Vulnerability. I feel like we hear this word in conversation and immediately shy away from it, as it often comes with the association of weakness. Being “vulnerable” has become synonymous with being too fragile, too delicate, too paper-thin to handle reality. Those who choose to be vulnerable are often exiled to the category of “other” and deemed as weaklings who need to toughen up. Our instinct is to try to protect ourselves from our vulnerabilities, to shelter ourselves from what we perceive as our shortcomings and instead replace this with the socially acceptable version of ourselves that will result in less conflict and ultimately prevent the boat from being rocked too hard.
I want to challenge that.
I would argue that vulnerability is not weakness. It’s quite the opposite of that actually. Being vulnerable with others and willing to take off whatever protective armor for the sake of gaining closeness and understanding actually demonstrates unimaginable strength. You don’t fall into vulnerability. It is a conscious choice to take action, to say to yourself and to others, “I am going to be myself today, wholly who I am, and I’m going to let you see that, flaws and all.” It’s stripping yourself naked and walking outside, fully allowing yourself to be exposed to the elements. There’s no guarantee of acceptance, yet you do the thing anyway. Sounds terrifying, right?
It’s terrifying, but it’s worth it. These people who choose to be vulnerable — let’s call them warriors of the soul — they don’t practice this vulnerability in a void. That’s part of the beauty of vulnerability; the fact that it can’t be practiced alone and is something that must be shared with others makes it all the more precious. Real vulnerability, the opening of one’s heart and mind to another human being, rewards those who choose to partake in it with the gifts of emotional intimacy and genuine connection. These are priceless gifts that are bestowed upon those who choose to be brave with their feelings, risking rejection for the sake of connection. Personally, I love vulnerability and the open-heartedness it encourages between our fellow man. I would trade one hundred superficial relationships for one real, vulnerable connection.
I mean think about it; what is there to gain? People who are vulnerable don’t practice it without good reason. It is such a gift, such an unimaginable and unexplainable feeling that overcomes you when you really, truly connect with another human being. It’s the same argument regarding safe spaces; when you’re vulnerable with someone, you are trusting them to be your safe space for the moment.
All that to say, reality makes it so that we have to be careful with who we choose to be vulnerable with. In an ideal world, everyone would be accepting of our vulnerabilities and welcome our most authentic selves with open arms and complete understanding. In the real world, however, that is not always the case. People can mishandle your delicate heart if you place trust in the wrong hands. The harsh truth is that not everyone has your best interest in mind and that there will be people that receive your vulnerable self and may immediately disregard it, making you feel like they are dropping your heart on the ground or even worse, ridiculing it, not valuing it for the precious thing that it is.
That is not an excuse to avoid vulnerability. If anything, it is encouragement to seek out those reciprocal relationships that will set your soul on fire in the best way possible. Not everyone will do that and that’s okay. I think to me, that’s the hardest pill to swallow. To get personal here, I’m a people pleaser. I find myself wanting to get along with everyone, to be everyone’s best friend and to really know everyone that I cross paths with. It’s a good-hearted and pure dream to have, but in reality it’s one that’s just not practical. Being truthful, I don’t have the time or the energy or the mental capacity to retain and value and cherish every person I meet’s vulnerable self 100% of the time. I don’t think that means I should treat them with a lack of respect, but I should go into some relationships knowing that they will not always fulfill the need I have for profound and deep connection and that’s okay. Rather than trying to pour my heart out to anyone that will listen, I should instead focus on nourishing those relationships that I do have that do fulfill those needs. When you have a genuine, real, authentic, and truly vulnerable connection with another human being, you don’t have to force it. You just know.
Going back to my original point, why try? If not every person will meet my every need, then what’s the point? The point is that those relationships that do fulfill one’s innate need to connect, that do make you feel heard, that do ignite a part of your soul that words can’t express, those relationships make it all worthwhile. You don’t need an infinite amount of vulnerable relationships to be satisfied; in fact, that’s part of the beauty of it. You just need a precious few that will love and respect you. Seek those types of relationships out and let them enrich your life.
And hey, maybe next time someone wants to open a part of their heart to you, take the time to listen. You never know what good may come from it.
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What is this?
I think often times we short sell safe spaces. Whether it be a safe space for our physical bodies away from the fray, or a safe space for our minds that helps us weather the storm within, I think we all crave the comfort of knowing that there is a space that exists where we can be unapologetically ourselves without fear of judgment or consequence.
I know I do.
I find I do my best work and am most inspired when I’m in an environment that appreciates the person I am and encourages me to cultivate that person. What’s that? The idea that I, 5 foot 2 Jasmine have something valuable to contribute to the game of life and that my voice should be heard is a concept that I wrap my head around every day. But it’s a conclusion that I could probably never even come to on my own had it not been for the comfort of safe spaces.
A safe space can be a person — perhaps a loving friend with a listening ear that makes you remember who you are and in all the best ways reminds you that that person is special. A safe space can be an activity — from playing pretend as a child to pursuing that pretend now in career form as an adult, I’ve found safety in the imaginative. A safe space can be a literal place — one’s bedroom at home, a favorite coffee shop, or maybe a spot in nature that connects you to your most primitive self and highlights the essentials. Whatever or whomever that may be, honor those safe spaces and prioritize them, for from them comes the greatest inspiration.
In the case of this site, sometimes a safe space can be a blog (what?). In a flash of lightning in the brain, one day I was passionately inspired to create something. I think as creatives we are constantly putting ourselves under the pressure of creating something great and meaningful and significant, so much so that we forget the simple beauty that exists in simply creating something to begin with. I can’t tell you how many times the fear of not getting said thing “perfectly right” has stopped me from starting the thing in the first place. That’s no way to live.
I finally said enough is enough and decided that I’m going to create this site and make it a safe space for myself. My only expectation of it is that I have no expectations. I created this as a place to think, to process, to word vomit in all the best ways and maybe inspire a friend or two along the way. Regardless of the outcome, I want this to be a safe space to reflect on the things that make life great. What exactly that may look like will be a work in progress, as we are all works in progress, but I look forward to sharing my thoughts and visions here.
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