Shabbat in 11 Parts

A deep breath. The light changing so subtly and gradually, it’s almost impossible to discern. But soon enough, it will be dark outside. We’ll sleep once more, than start all over again.

Creating a Peaceful Queendom

Real LifeJena SchwartzMay 7, 2018English Bulldog, Yeats, transgender, self-employment, puppies, divorce, remarriageComment

When Denial Is No Longer an Option

In the end, it’s a quality of being honest that is liberating. For so long, I wasn’t fully honest. I lied outright about some things, like smoking, and in a more subconscious way about deeper things, things that I didn’t have names for, things that were so big I was afraid to expose them.

Real LifeJena SchwartzMay 6, 2018marriage, divorce, coming out, LGBTQ, homecoming, mothering, parenting, sexuality, fear, birth, mary oliver, I'm gayComment

“Supposed to” Is the Death Knell of Creative Ease

I got up out of bed. I put on jeans and a sweatshirt and peed and brushed my teeth and had coffee. I prepared French toast for Pearl with a birthday candle in each piece — much easier to blow out than 12 + 1 for good luck! I navigated some choppy mothering waters and even got us safely to shore (aka school) through some mild rapids.

Real LifeJena SchwartzApril 9, 2018real life, mothering, parenting, self employment, divorce, marriage, love, relationshipsComment

Promise Me You’ll Never Abandon Yourself Again

Real Life, ObservationsJena SchwartzMarch 7, 2018body image, self-love, beauty, women's bodies, personal growthComment

Thoughts on Advice and Friendship

Real LifeJena SchwartzFebruary 5, 2018Comment

Outgrowing My Fear of Anger

Take some time soon to write about anger. Set a timer for 10 minutes and make a fast and furious list (see what I did there?) of associations you have with anger. You could simply start with “anger = …” and go from there, returning to this equation if you get stuck.

Thoughts on Writing and Fragility

Yet you, on an ordinary day, telling the truth about your life and being willing to get more and more honest and real? That is strong, my friends. And it’s just the beginning.

Creative Process, ResistanceJena SchwartzJanuary 9, 2018writer, writing, fragility, practice, fear, social justice, activism, community, justice, equality, poetryComment

The Poet’s Role in a Crumbling Democracy

But here’s the thing: If I am to move my writing more into a political sphere — a periphery I’ve circled and danced inside of for as long as I’ve been writing — I have an obligation to do so in a way that calls attention not to myself but to those who really have something at stake.

I’ll Bring the Pencils

it’s no wonder a big part of my work in this world is to say: Come on in. Have a seat. Let’s hang out together. Let’s write and draw and listen to music and laugh and tell stories.

Real LifeJena SchwartzDecember 15, 2017sisters, family, childhood, stories, writingComment

Writers, Authors, and People Who Write

Something begins to shift the moment we loosen the reigns and declare, “I am a person who writes. I am a writer.” And this is the crux of the matter: A writer is a person who writes, and not all writers must be authors.

Real LifeJena SchwartzDecember 4, 2017fathers, daughters, family, poetry, Sinead Morrissey, writer, writing, parenting, author, committment, writing practice, communication, permissionComment

The Self-Abandonment of Envy

Once, when I asked a client what she imagined when she pictured her “ideal writing life,” she said, “Well, I really like yours.” I was so taken aback. I couldn’t decide in the moment how to respond. I was flustered. Part of me felt a surge of anger, like, no, you can’t have mine. It’s already taken. Part of me wanted to laugh. Here was a woman who had cashed out from her years in the private sector and basically had the freedom to do whatever she wanted; no partner, no kids…. oh, waitaminute, could she be lonely? Longing for family life? Was she envying me?!

Real LifeJena SchwartzNovember 27, 2017envy, illusion, rabbit hole, patriarchyComment

On Boundaries, Shabbat, and Not Neglecting the Soul

That’s exactly it. Taking these 24 or so hours “off” is really a chance to get quiet, to go inward, to look in the mirror, to turn away from the output and towards what is closest. The circles of what’s sacred to me are all beautiful, and when I disregard my soul in the busy mix and the caring for and focusing on others, something gets lost.

Sanctuary

If I had a lawn, I’d say come set up a tent
city with booths and creative currency
and herbalists and midwives and women
in overalls who know how to build things.

Resistance, CommunityJena SchwartzNovember 9, 2017church, sanctuary, prayers, politics, deportationComment

Spitting Out the Patriarchy

I’m here to remind myself — and maybe you reading — that what I’m doing here counts. It will change and grow and deepen and evolve, yes, but it is also, already, real. The tyranny of always getting somewhere else? It’s a racket.

Resistance, CommunityJena SchwartzOctober 18, 2017writing, writer, entrepreneur, author, mary oliver, business, self help, retreat, travel, patriarchy, self doubt, friendship, listening, creativityComment

Why I Don’t Feel Proud of America

Yes, there has been social and economic progress. But you don’t have to look hard or far to see the cracks in this perspective. It’s a distinctly white perspective, and one that rests on tremendous privilege.

When Everything Is Too Much

Real LifeJena SchwartzJuly 31, 2017anxiety, moods, fear, control, motherhood, impermanence, mindfulnessComment

Poetry, Politics, and Privilege

I am a bundle of fear and rage and love and confusion. I went for a run this morning, and I looked at each person’s face I passed by. A delivery guy. An older gentleman walking his dog. A woman with a briefcase waiting for the light. A man smoking a cigarette on a bench. A child watching in awe as the firetruck backed out of the station, holding his grandfather’s hand. I ached.

Ten Minutes Instead of Three Hours

I had that itch earlier to write. For hours and hours. To figure out where I’ve been and pull all the different colored ribbons together in a big bright bow. Alas. That is not this. This is more like lurching towards the writing, like driving a stick-shift when you’ve only ever driven an automatic.

ObservationsJena SchwartzJuly 19, 2017write, writing, motherhood, parenting, the office, summer, coffee, doctors, healthcare, insuranceComment

Underwear, Avocado, and Being Loved Inside the Hunger and the Mess

Give me this life where I don’t cringe at the sight of my own flesh or wish I were someone else, and where I am not only tolerated but loved most of all, most adored, in my hunger, in my mess, in my half-naked sandal-wearing ruined beauty.

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