save blue like jazz!

Back on September 1, Donald Miller (Blue Like Jazz, Through Painted Deserts, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years) spoke at Belmont University about living a better story. My friend Brittany and I decided to crash it. Best idea we've had since the two of us have been friends. What they decided to launch that day was the "Living a Better Story" campaign. Envelopes were passed around with different amounts of money in them. We were asked to "intentionally treat this money as God's money." I got $5. Brittany and I tossed some ideas around for a bit, but we couldn't come up with anything that really got us excited.

I know how to use my $5. This is the story I submitted to Belmont's campaign:

My name is Ambika and I am not a student of Belmont. However, I am an appreciative fan of Donald Miller's books. Pretty much every book he has written has become a part of my growth and his reflections seem to become my reflections.

I'm sorry if I violated some rule that pertained to only students participating, but after hearing Don Miller speak that day, I couldn't resist trying it out and seeing what would come of it.

I admit, I had an immensely hard time figuring out what it was that I could do with my $5. I could donate it to Mocha Club, but I didn't feel the excitement and the knowing I normally felt when tossing ideas around in my head. Then life got busy. So busy that I forgot to go grocery shopping and was eating too much Ramen. And my better story got put away.

It was a couple weeks later when I was surfing the internet, passing the time at work that I read Don Miller's blog. My favorite book, the book that had changed my life, Blue Like Jazz was going to be turned into a movie. This fact I knew, I had known about it for years. But what I didn't know and what I didn't want to read was that the project was put on hold or as Don Miller phrased it "the project went away". I was disappointed. When was it the Christian minority's turn to get their story told without Kirk Cameron being anywhere near it? When was it our chance to show how we grew up and what faith meant to us and the struggles we've faced and continue to face everyday? I was discouraged.

Until I saw the tweet. Two fans of Blue Like Jazz the Movie were trying to save it by collecting pledges from fans via Kickstarter. That's when I knew where my $5 was going (plus the other $95 I decided to add). $100 is a lot for me to give up, but I felt that odd sense of urgency and comfort knowing that it will be okay.

My only prayer while donating to this movie was one of hope. Pure, unadulterated hope. That Blue Like Jazz the Movie would ignite something in the world, especially the Christian world. Something that looks like love rather than just talking about it. Something that looked like grace, rather than just talking about it. Something that looked like the solid relationships that life should be built upon, rather than just talking about it.

Something that looked like Jesus, rather than just talking about Him.

The effort that is going into saving this movie is sincerely fascinating. It's only been 8 days, but so far over $75,000 has been pledged. That's 60.2% of their goal of $125,000. Plus, an investor promised to match the $125,000 if they raise it. This movie could be made after all. If you want to help, go here: www.savebluelikejazz.com. You can make a donation of at least $1. ($10 gets you a phone call from the director, Steve Taylor, thanking you. $100 means you're an Associate Producer. Which means my name will be in the credits. Which means I get to make an IMDB page. Which means awesome!)

b.

thanksgiving & beauty.

This may or may not get heavy. I'm leaning towards heavy happening though.

For those of you that don't know, I was in the hospital last week. What I thought was severe back pain and an old softball/track & field injury coming back to haunt me (again), actually turned out to be two different blood clots. One was in each of my lungs. The one in my right side was comparable to the size of my fist. The doctors are not entirely sure how they were caused, just that I was lucky to come to the hospital when I did. At the beginning of the night I was offered two choices: grab some pain medication and head home to sleep it off or stay for a bit, maybe run some tests and find out exactly what it is.

I'm glad I stayed for the tests. The next morning, when I was alone (before some friends were nice enough to come keep me company), trying to sleep off the intense pain medication they gave me the night before, the doctors told me news that I never thought I'd hear at the age of 23. If I had chosen to take the first option of pain killers and had just gone home, I would have most likely died. (Seeing that typed out is very sobering.) It was difficult to say the least, accepting this news. Knowing that if I had decided to be stubborn and not face my fear of hospitals (and also stop pretending that I wasn't 16 anymore and thus, invincible) that my own choice would have been my demise.

One thing I have taken away from this experience so far is this: I am happy to know that I was not regretful nor was I scared to think about the other option. Sure, I was emotional to think about it, but I began to take comfort in the fact that there must be something for me if God didn't take me yet.

Naturally it has been an emotional week. Everything was affecting me. The PSAs I was watching at work, I would tear up at. Hearing different songs, no matter the content, would make my eyes well. I think those tears were my way of processing a mixture of relief, fright, homesickness and thankfulness. I had just been through the most frightening experience of my life and I couldn't have my family with me. But I was also thankful. Thankful to still be alive and thankful for the friends that had showed me so much love. Thankful for Will for keeping me company and taking amazing care of me while I was in the ER. Thankful for my amazing nurse, Lila for being so talented and giving me the best care I'd ever received. Thankful for Vanessa and Lauren and Zack and Brie for their prayers. Thankful for Brittany and Anita and Amber for coming to keep me company. Thankful for my parents and my sister for keeping me positive and unafraid. Thankful for everything.

This past summer, I had been stuck in a bit of a slump. I was no longer sure of myself. I felt uprooted, unbalanced and out of place. After this though, I found a renewed sense of self. I know I have previously written about this, but after this, it just CLICKED. I want to be, no, I NEED to be:

genuinely compassionate

genuinely loving

genuinely caring

genuinely kind

genuinely listening.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing more important in this world than the relationships we make and the way we treat others. I want to love. I want to live love.

It is because of your acts of love: the calling, the prayers, the texts, the tweets, the facebook messages, that make me feel so blessed to have all of you in my life.

I feel nothing but inspiration and joy knowing what I know now. I am absolutely sure about what I know and I feel like I am coming closer to understanding God. Everything about this world is insanely beautiful, everything shining as brightly and uniquely as it was made.

And probably not by accident (yet another reason I am convinced that my iTunes has a mind of it's own), this song came on shuffle the other day.

I'm learning it's okay to let go. I am completely safe.

Absolutely safe.

b.

unsettled but content. confusion ensues (maybe)

Rarely, I'll post something from my own private journal. I'm curious to know how other people are feeling that are in the same position as myself.

---

8.9.10.

I think because I was waiting for so long to PA for "my life to start", that now something has started happening (new job, new friends, new city) I feel like it's not going fast enough. I'm patient with everything/everybody else -- except for myself. I don't know what it is exactly that I'm so impatient for, but I just feel...unsettled right now. Not quite anxious and not antsy, but maybe a mixture.

I also want to be more genuine. I know I've written about this before, but since it's still on my heart, it's obviously something I still feel I need to work on. Genuine in everything I do, every emotion I feel and convey to others. I want to be able to express myself verbally, in a way that I am comfortable and okay with talking to people and lettings words just flow out. I want to make people feel beautiful and loved. I want to have a spirit that's contagious. I want to be on FIRE with love; almost with a reckless abandon. I know some days I do, but I want it to be everyday. Yes, it's exhausting, but it's worth it. I want to be bold in love -- all kinds of love...

----

Now reading over that I think I know why I feel antsy. Growing up with the expectation of "you go to college, you get a good job, you get married, you have kids, you have a happy life" prepares you horribly for life. My parents may not have ingrained that in me, but society & media certainly have. Sure, I've come to not believe it in recent years, but honestly, who can kick that out of their mind when they see it happening to so many of their peers? I understand that I have a different path in life, I get that. But when something you see as "ludicrous" is happening to everyone around you, it makes you feel like the odd man out. I'm not crying out for the life of a suburban housewife (gagme). Trust me, that is the exact last thing I'm doing. This is just me thinking out loud to try and figure out this unsettledness in my being.

I'm not frustrated. I'm not unhappy. I'm very content and very satisfied with my life. Things are going well and moving at the right pace. So why am I still with this "unsettledness"? Is it because I'm still a little uprooted from Chambersburg? Have I not found my niche here in Nashville yet? Am I so used to the "bubble of society" we normally call college? Maybe I'm not used to the idea of living here. Yes, I've lived here before, but I still feel like I'm leaving soon.

I want it to go away. This feeling. But I'll process it, ride it out, see where it takes me, just like I do everything else: I'll sleep on it.

the music city.

I've been living in Nashville for 2 months (tomorrow). And this city is everything I wanted it to be and more than what I'd hoped for. I'd lived here previously, so I didn't take much adjusting. Probably the most adjusting I've had to do so far was when I first got here, I was scrambling to see all of my friends. It was so ingrained in me that I would only be here for less than 24 hours that when people couldn't hang out, I was getting upset. When I was unpacking and setting up my room, I kept thinking "this is CRAZY. Why did I bring all of this stuff with me? I'm leaving, like, TOMORROW. Pack all of this back up." It was like I was forcing myself to unpack. Unpacking all of those familiar things and placing them in such foreign places, despite being different, it was extremely comfortable. My comfort level in this city amazes me. Yeah, it feels like home. Actually, in reality, it always did.

ramblings

I've been trying to write for 15 minutes everyday. It was an exercise we got into when I was in junior high, and it helped. A lot. It's healthy to have a stream of consciousness and write anything without fear of being judged. It's writing without a filter. This notebook isn't a personal journal, so I have no hesitancy in posting this. But I'd love to hear your thoughts on it and how much farther this can be taken.

(from 7.10.10)

I wonder what it'd be like to live on some other plane of existence, but I knew and remembered about my time here on this one. Maybe a universe where everybody's knees bent the other direction. Or music was a completely different entity -- or what if it didn't ever exist/wasn't invented? How much would that change an entire NATION/universe of people's lives? Holy SHIT. Expression would completely change. Art would change. What would their music sound like without the influence of previous artists? What would their very first song sound like? Could you teach them music without influencing them towards a certain style? How would they figure out rhythm or scales or tone or pitch or meter? Somebody would teach them, but what would it be like to watch that process unfold? Explaining something as common and diverse and complex as music to a person who has never heard it -- what would it be like? Or explaining any other idea/concept? It's wicked.

How would you describe feelings or emotions? Scientifically or artistically? I wouldn't be able to explain with words. I'd have to take what little talent I had and paint it. Or play a song. But not everyone has the same reaction to the same song.

I wonder if people, had they never heard of music, if they were wondering if they were missing out on something?

timing love.

I just watched the movie Timer last night with Emma Caulfield. A good friend recommended it to me over the summer, and it was well worth the watch.

Timer presents the idea of having a guaranteed true love. The characters have timers installed on their wrists that will tell them exactly when they will meet their "one". It's beautifully written, charming and honest.

After I had watched it, I kept thinking about it. I was up for awhile thinking about it actually. Wondering: Would I want to know? and What would I do if I did know?

The only two options I see in front of me would be to either 1) wait around or 2) live it up (because you know that no matter what you do, you'll have somebody, there's no guessing).

If I went with the first option, life would begin to lose it's zest and the reasons that life is so...live-able. It's the balance between heartache and romance and tears and laughter that make living worth it.

You could make yourself a better [prepared] person for spending the rest of your life with someone else, but the way these people were conditioned to think because of the timers, when your timer went off, you were meant to be. So people really took you as you were. There was no need to self-improve, no need to change to please a person or to adapt to that person.

In a way, it really takes away the "growing up" part of life. You're supposed to get hurt. How are you supposed to know what all the good things in life are without experiencing the bad? Life is balance, and you take one of those elements away, and suddenly everything is out of sync.

Not only will life lose it's zest, love songs would change. There wouldn't be a pining for anybody, you know they're there. It's just a matter of when your timer runs out.

There's always the notion of that comfort, knowing you're not alone and you'll eventually meet them. But for what? You bypass any and all other experiences that come your way because of something ticking on your wrist? Emma Caulfield's character, Oona, begins to lose hope when her timer has yet to turn on. So she looks for love outside of the schedule. And finds it. It breaks her heart, it makes her question things and wrestle with emotions she's never dealt with before. It's not until her timer actually turns on, that she realizes that she doesn't know anything outside of the "love schedule."

How incredibly frustrating is that? You would essentially spend your entire life waiting. Yeah, waiting for a surefire guarantee, but I don't know...I can't sit around. I get restless and antsy. I want experiences out of life, even if it gets me hurt. I'll take it all if it means living the most that I can.

"Living it up" is always an option. Her sister, Steph, does it. But she finds nothing in it. I don't find it appealing. Actually, I don't find either option appealing.

And there's different types of love. You can meet someone and immediately know or you can be friends and it'll "blossom into love". Love is it's own monster, I feel like you can't make it work to a scientific schedule. Or you shouldn't make it work to a scientific schedule. Forcing something out of anything is never right, and it's never the way to go. What if the timers were just self-fulfilling prophecies? You can choose a different path. You can go somewhere else. You can go where you want. You can do what you want. Living life to such a constraining lifestyle would be hell.

What do you think? Would you want to know? What would you do?

It's a nice gesture, these timers, but I prefer the mystery.

i'm not terribly great at poetry. but i wrote this yesterday. thoughts?

you need to know me

i need you, somebody, to know me

i have so many secrets that i want to share

so much of my soul that i want to bare

mustering up the courage to show you my heart (nobody's claimed it yet)

i'm not entirely sure anybody's wanted it

see, i haven't been careless, and i've tried being bold

but it's time to jump all in

head first.

whoever you are, let's do this.