How You Measure Half a Life
Taking a chance
July 2015
It happened. The kind people at Mamalode published my essay on their August theme Optimism, How You Measure Half a Life. And ironically, it’s a meditation on whether there is enough time left in our collective lives to dream big dreams, take a chance, try something new.
Please take a moment, head on over and give me some love. And if enough people visit, I may get enough money for a medium-priced bottle of wine, so have your Mom visit, too, or your best friend, your reading group, your dog. Whatever.
I’ll be checking comments there and I’d love to hear what you think. It’s Mama’s first big foray into the great big blogosphere and it would be amazing to see a familiar face or two, or to hear from people I haven’t heard from in awhile. It’s that kinda day.
See you at Mamalode. And thanks in advance. Cheers.
xoxo
jen
26 comments on “How You Measure Half a Life”
What? I'm totally listening. Tell me. No, really, tell me.
jen groeber: mama art 
Hooray! Such a beautiful post and now it is sure to reach so many more . Warm ️Congrats! K
Thank you so much. It’s wild to be out there. It’s like a teeny, tiny art opening.
Here’s how much I love you (which is, you’ll see, a lot): I signed up for a Disqus account so I could post a comment, because more wine is almost always better and because you posted this new news before I could get caught up on your recent posts, and posting there seemed like an excellent idea. So now I have another account for which I’ll eventually have to click “forgot password” because, well, #almost50 and #forgetful. Anyway, heartiest congratulations and well wishes to you, Jen. And cheers to life well-lived, no matter how long it lasts.
I read and commented on Mamalode, but want to reiterate: Gorgeous. Simply that.
You are so go team, you humble me. I’m about one third the bl-iend (blog friend) you are. And I have no idea how you do it. But thank you for shining your sparkling sunflower light on me. It’s just the warmest, most delightful thing.
Ahh… you make me blush darlin’! Of course, it took me a few days just to read the comments. I’ve been on the run since I landed (less than a week ago)– out of town for 4 days, home today for 2 and then flying off to take my youngest to college… a lot of “letting go” and heart cuts this month!
Ditto Jennifer.
Bwah ha ha. Most classic comment ever. And yes, that is love. I don’t even remember my Disqus password. You and your bookish endeavors have been part of my inspiration as well. (When can I buy that book of yours?!) And living life well, yes, that’s the trick. Thank you for popping by there and here. Such an #almost50 rock star!
Congrats. I just read it- wow! Beautiful.
Thank you so much for heading of there and checking it out!
Congrats Jen! I’ll go check it out!
Thanks so much!!
I really like this part:
“There is time for us all then. Time to be amazing young women, time to discover, time to take chances, to write, to make art, fall in love, fall out of love, time to mother, care for someone else, find a new career, make a difference, make a mark. It is not over. It is never over.”
I’m 22, and now I wonder what my next 22 years will be like. We don’t know what will happen tomorrow but we still hope as though we are sure…
I enjoyed every bit of this piece. Thank you for sharing and introducing me to Marina Keegan. I just read “The Opposite of Loneliness.”
Such a great book. That Marina Keegan touched so many lives in just 22 years. If I were to do some time traveling I’d sneak back to 22-year-old me and tell her to be bold, be courageous, don’t take no for an answer. Since it’s unlikely I’ll manage that, let’s you and I agree to be bold and courageous for however many years we have.
Thanks so much for commenting.
Congrats! I just read and commented over there too. What a beautiful and touching piece of writing. Great read to start the week!
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. your comment just made my day, so there.
A beautiful essay, Jen!
Congratulations on your first ‘official’ publication (outside of this treasure-trove of a blog). I’m celebrating with a maple latte (it’s early..), cheers!
Each essay you share is a gorgeous meditation.
xx
Ah, thank you for that. And I just love me some maple, so it’s an appropriate beverage to be sure. As for your kind words, right back at you. Your photos are just transcendent, their own gorgeous meditations.
What a beautiful piece, congratulations on being able to share it with a wider public!
So good to see you around the blogosphere again, lovely mama. And thank you.
It’s lovely 🙂
Thanks so much for reading.
I’m so happy to see your byline touring the web! Enjoy that medium-sized bottle of wine–cheers!
Ha! Yes, just a medium-sized bottle, I fear. But in time, who knows? My writing might buy me a lunch, or a small dinner at a reasonably-priced eatery. Perchance to dream…
I can relate. At 57 my son is 10, like you I have taken some solace in the life of Sally Mann, and often. Wonder whether continuing to paint and write is an accomplishment or self indulgence. I won’t stop, but had to tell you that I had the luck of hanging out with Sally in Lexington Va and Roanoke at Hollins. She mastered antique methods of printing on glass and had vision real vision of what was interesting and her gift led to a rare celebrity in the world of photography. Any creative field is brutal unless the artist, dancer, actress, writer is appealing as a person AND. creator. I put up just about everything I write or paint, alas, I gave yet to figure out how to translate a tormented life into work people enjoy
Love this comment (and those paintings are gorgeous- enamel on panel? They look like a very modern and lush take on Abstract Expressionism to be sure…)
I was just listening to a recent TedTalks podcast (I think it may have been a replay) on Beauty. And they talked about the “perfect painting” which was a landscape with a tree and a water source and so on. It sounded a tiny bit horrible (although I do secretly love me some Wolf Kahn, but still…) But it did get me thinking about how much people would rather surround themselves with beauty than any of the kooky ways of looking at life that roll around in my head on any given day.
But I don’t think it’s self-indulgent to figure out a means of expression and to devote a piece of ourselves to it, especially if we can balance it with the time we spend with our kid(s). Teaching them that it’s okay to work things out on paper, or in bits and bytes, or in enamel on panel has got to be giving them a way to cope/celebrate/mourn/process that will be invaluable in their lives. (Or at least that’s what I tell myself.)
And I can’t believe you met Sally Mann. Amazing.
Thank you for commenting.