Showing all posts in Identity

In Culture, Identity, Movies/TV, Nurture, Relationships

The Last Jedi

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
The Last Jedi

I’ve taken 2017 off from writing movie reviews, but The Last Jedi was such an emotional experience that I find myself longing to write about it.

Don’t worry if you haven’t seen it (although you really should go now!) as I don’t do plot spoilers. Don’t listen to the crabby haters online who are moaning about how Episode VIII should be wiped from the Star Wars canon (thank you, internet criticism, for creating a group of angry “fans” who demand a creative product meet their specific demands like it’s SO simple and easy to make a successful blockbuster franchise movie). Go see it for yourself and decide.

The Last Jedi is truly a stunning achievement. It’s packed with all of the action true fans long for, plus a host of witty, silly quips and special moments that linger in your mind long after the final credits roll. But more than that, this instalment gives us even more women as leaders worthy of respect (hooray!) and some deep explorations of complicated and important subjects.

This movie does not shy away from topics like the devastating effects of our rabid fame culture, honest questions about identity and belonging, the punishing personal cost of war, corporate greed ravishing the environment and the ever-widening soul-crushing gap between the wealthy and the poor. I love it when I can sink my teeth into these relevant issues and engage my kids in a lengthy morality debate on the way home from the cinema.

Our world is a broken place. The Last Jedi mirrors much of this sorrow in a relatable yet still entertaining fashion. Luke Skywalker, always my favourite from the original trilogy, is back here but damaged, older and considerably more fearful than we’ve seen him before.

Rey, a hero I adored in The Force Awakens, found Skywalker at the end of Episode VII and is desperate to learn what she can from him. But Master Luke is an unwilling teacher, pushing Rey toward Ben Solo, the tortured son of Han and Leia who has turned to the dark side. This connection between “good” and “evil” moved me deeply, particularly the image of Rey trying to answer the nagging question of who she really is and where she comes from.

Each one of us has the power to write our own story. If we don’t like our past, we possess the ability to change our present so that our future becomes something different. Nothing special is required for this. Only bravery. That’s the central message of The Last Jedi, and it’s one we need desperately at this precarious moment of human history.

Go see this movie. Return to a time when you went to see a cinematic story unfold without a thousand other voices in your head telling you what’s wrong with it. Simply go and be entertained. For me, The Last Jedi is powerful, hopeful, beautiful, stirring, emotional, satisfying. We need peace, purpose and courage to light our path, now more than ever.

May the force be with us, always.

In Identity, Minimalism, Movies/TV, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

Contentment

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Contentment

I turn 45 this week. I’ve been thinking back to when I turned 37 and my life began to change dramatically. It’s hard to believe that 8 years have gone by since then. I read once that it takes 7 years for a new city to really feel like home and I believe that to be true. I’ve been living now as my authentic self for the last 7 years and I’m finally beginning to settle in and enjoy myself.

The biggest thing I did at the age of 37 was create boundaries. I had existed my whole life without any clear idea of where I ended and someone else began so boundaries were brand new and terrifying to me. Thankfully, my amazing counsellor Joanne explained what healthy boundaries looked like and she helped me find the courage to set them and hold them when they were tested. This process helped me take control of my time and safeguard my emotions. It saved me.

I also began to experiment with saying no when I didn’t want to do something. A few months ago I looked back over my calendars since 2011 and I felt weary just paging through the many obligations, committees, coffee dates, church activities, etc. that I used to do. Learning to say no and not stress over the other person’s reaction to my decision has liberated me and I’m incredibly grateful.

Perhaps this also falls under boundaries and saying no, but over the last few years I’ve made hard choices about the people I allow into my life and these decisions have made me so happy. At first, it was painful and isolating, but over time I could feel my soul healing as I recovered from the intense people pleasing that had been my key mode in the early years of my life. Choosing not to have negative, draining, selfish people in my inner circles has made room for so many positive, kind, generous ones to take their place and my health is better every single day as a result.

Turning 45 marks a significant point in my life. I’m working steadily in the Vancouver area as a background performer in film and TV and I feel so alive as I walk out my biggest dreams. I worked on a big show a few times this month and while waiting for the bathroom at the studio I stood outside of the writers’ room, listening to them have a story meeting. My spine tingled with the excitement of it, and the thought “one day I’ll be in a writers’ room” didn’t feel far-fetched in the slightest. Instead it seemed inevitable.

I just finished my first semester of my university creative writing class. I know it’s not polite to brag, but finishing with a mark in the mid-nineties was reassuring after so many years away from school. Right now I have the feeling that I’m in the sweet spot when it comes to decades of pursuing writing, speaking and film work. It’s coming together, in a satisfying and unforced manner, and I am so content.

It’s only recently that I’ve actually decided to enjoy my life as it is, not how I once dreamed it could be. Chasing an elusive someday stokes up discontent and sadness. Staying present to notice what’s working well and paying attention to those you love who also love you in return is worth its weight in gold.

Here’s to marking the middle of my forties with gratitude, warmth and light. Our world needs us to be operating at our healthiest and happiest capacity. As a friend posted the other day, “Water only what waters you. Let go of anything that leaves you feeling thirsty.”

In Identity, Personal Growth, Writing

A New Love for Poetry

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
A New Love for Poetry

I’m absolutely loving my university Creative Writing class this fall. My professor has taught me so much that I didn’t know or had never considered about writing.

Every writer has bad habits and weak areas. I knew this going in. Anyone who has had a professional editor look over their work will be familiar with the red marks on a page or Google Doc, highlighting for all the world to see the words you tend to overuse and abuse (mine are “all” – used in the previous sentence for shit’s sake – and “too” and for some unknown reason I use “tiny” way too often…sigh).

But in this class my mind has been blown wide open by imagery. I’ve knowingly underused imagery in my work, justifying it by telling anyone who would listen that “I’m interested in the inner landscape so I don’t waste time describing setting and characters.”

Such horseshit. Now I see what I’ve been missing out on. It’s like a giant puzzle piece, sliding into place, informing every area of my writing by upping my game when it comes to descriptive imagery. Particularly in poetry and the art of the short story.

From grade five through second-year university, I attended small evangelical Christian schools. It’s possible I’ve simply blocked it out, but I honestly don’t recall learning anything about poetry in my school years. I grew up with a certain disdain for poems, believing them to be inscrutable and pretentious.

And now I’m studying poetry at the ripe old age of forty-four, twenty-five years after I left university, and I’m blown away by how much I love it and how naturally it comes to me (now that I’ve been challenged to use concrete words and images instead of the abstract ones I’ve been fond of for so long). It’s like a whole new world and I wonder why I waited so long to dive in.

I’m reading poetry, and I’m writing poetry, and I’m knee-deep in the joys of juxtaposition, wordplay and double meanings. It’s fun. And with every word I write, and each new contest I enter, I’m feeling stronger and more confident as a writer.

This is where the good stuff is. It’s in the learning curve, the challenge, the messiest parts of our lives. Approaching writing as if I’m new to it has given me a fresh interpretation of the craft and the process. I feel like I’m in Oz, peeking behind the curtain, and marvelling at the nuts and bolts of building stories, worlds and emotions on the page.

I can’t wait to see what’s next. Bring it on.

In Culture, Identity, Nurture, Personal Growth, Relationships

October

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
October

I love October. Every year, it feels like a deepening of the new adventures ushered in by September. This month is about settling down, breathing in and out, bundling up in cozy sweaters, anticipating the upcoming holiday season, letting go of summer and preparing for the barrenness of winter.

The air smells fresh and clean, the leaves are changing hue and drifting lazily to the ground, pumpkins are in stores and scattered throughout patches, and the rain (in Vancouver) and snow (in Calgary) are beginning. For me, October is a quiet respite in between the seasons. It’s like a pause button, a reasonable place to stop and look around.

This October I’m adjusting to my new role as a part-time creative writing student, back at university after many years away. I’ve had four classes so far and I’ve proven to myself that I am equipped for this particular challenge. Talking about story arcs, symbolism and the inventive use of voice for two and a half hours turns out to be my idea of heaven.

Recently, I signed with an agent for background acting as I’ve dabbled in it this year and decided I wanted to do more. I feel energized by the idea of saying yes to things that once had the power to terrify me. One of the jobs I just did meant working through the night and skating for hours, an activity I can technically accomplish but practically have not done for over a decade.

And you know what? I rocked it. Sure, my feet were sore by 5 am and I felt tired and achy the next day, but all of that was totally worth it because I dared to say yes when my insecurity urged me to respond “Hell no.”

We can do more than we think we can. This life we have been given is not a dress rehearsal. It is happening, right here and right now, and as the great poet Ferris Bueller told us back in the mid-80s: “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it.”

October is for looking around and for gratitude (Canadians celebrate our Thanksgiving this weekend, hands down my fave holiday other than Christmas). It’s an invitation to examine our priorities, cherish the people who mean the most to us (do they know how much we love them?), and identify where our time and resources are going.

Use this month as a pause button. Take a look around. This is too good to miss.

In Identity, Nurture, Personal Growth, Relationships

Messages of Love to Ourselves

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Messages of Love to Ourselves

Last week I went to a laser clinic for information on removing a raised red bump on my scalp under my hair. It’s been growing there for some time, since Ava was a baby, and I checked it with my doctor a few years ago and he said not to worry about it.

Lately it’s been itchy around the area and I’m weary of warning those cutting my hair about avoiding it. So I went to a laser clinic.

Apparently, what I have is called a “ruby point”. I’ve left this one so long that it will be expensive to remove, taking several appointments instead of just one. The technician pointed out several small rubies developing along my hairline and on my neck and chest.

I went home from the consultation utterly dejected. I hate spending money in general, but certainly dropping hundreds of dollars on cosmetic surgery offends my thrifty ways. It wasn’t until late in the afternoon that I identified what my internal monologue was whispering to me after this appointment.

That persistent voice went something like this: Julianne, you are such an idiot. How could you let this thing grow on your head for over a decade without doing something about it? Anyone with sense would’ve known better. And what the hell is wrong with you that more of these ruby point things are growing all over you?

The voice was relentless, mean and forceful. I felt overwhelmed by a sense of shame and guilt. What was wrong with me? It was only when I finally sat down with my journal and tried to sort out why I was hurting that I could see how devastating this line of thought was. It’s not my fault I’m prone to these ruby points. And I did check the one on my head with a doctor who wasn’t concerned about it. Now it’s becoming an issue for me so I’m getting it removed.

Recognizing my unconscious nasty messaging to myself was so helpful, for it meant I could choose to mute those cruel words. I did not have to surrender my joy and peace to that angry noise. I am worth this money I must spend to take care of my health. I am not a burden to my family, like I initially feared. (Talking about this with Jason over dinner was so reassuring. He is usually kinder to me than I am to myself. He said, “Go for it, don’t worry about what it costs. You need to get this done.”)

I am loved and valued and it’s okay to prioritize my skincare. I made the appointment for this afternoon to laser off the big ruby point and after that I can make a plan to deal with the smaller ones.

It’s important to stop and look at what our subconscious is actually saying to us. Much of what we hear can be traced back to faulty messaging from our childhood or other critical points in our past, but the wonderful news is that we do not have to listen to that vitriol any longer. We can love ourselves through any hardship.

I’m grateful that this health issue is not a serious one. It’s pricey, but others are facing much scarier and more uncertain problems. I will hold that gratitude close, and work on making sure the messages I give myself are ones of love instead of scorn or derision.

How about you? What does your self-talk sound like?