http://twloha.sitecrafting.com/blog/ Latest blog entries from TWLOHA en-us Fri, 30 Jul 2010 03:50:38 PDT Fri, 30 Jul 2010 03:50:38 PDT SiteCrafting, Inc. CMS http://www.twloha.com/blog/ring-bells/ i am writing to tell you about a song. The song was not written by a famous artist. The band is not signed to a major label. i have listened to the song twenty times today. i listened to it three times in a row this morning, borrowed headphones plugged into a borrowed computer in a borrowed office. i cried for ten minutes straight. It is an awkward thing to be a grown-up crying in an office (especially someone else's and especially during business hours) and yet the thing i heard in the headphones came louder than the fear or shame i felt for crying. There was the sense that i was hearing something important, something that felt true to the deepest place in me. Who can say why we love something or feel something? i am certainly no authority but perhaps it starts with truth. There is something about hearing or seeing or feeling something that is true.  My friend Steven lives in Los Angeles. He lives with his wife Danielle and their adorable baby boy Aiden.  They chose Los Angeles and they remain in Los Angeles because there are songs inside of Steven. They stay also because of the people around them who not only believe in those songs, they know the cost and weight and stories of the songs. They live in a humble apartment that though close enough in miles, is far from Malibu and Mulholland. They have made it a home, made with things that can't be measured in square feet. It has been my privilege to get to know them over the last couple years, to learn their stories and to be loved by them. When i spend time with Steven and Danielle, i am certain that i am loved beyond anything that i could ever explain or earn or deserve. i am certain also that my friends are living a sacred story worthy of love songs and fight songs, a story rich with victory, defeat, sadness, forgiveness, laughter, depression, redemption, passion, pain and hope.  "Ring the Bells" is the title track on an EP that came out today. The band is called SATELLITE and my friend Steven is the singer. The song is a love song and a fight song and it is perhaps also a prayer. It is urgent and heavy and beautiful and powerful and i hope it finds you like a friend. i believe it because i  have seen my friend Steven talk about his wife and son without blinking.  You can listen to "Ring the Bells" at  www.satellite-music.com  You can buy it on iTunes HERE.  The lyrics are below.  Steven will be joining me, performing solo acoustic,  at Alma College in Michigan  on September 23. Peace to you tonight. jamie Find the words that make it right again Calling birds help you make it through the night It's just enough to find a way to open up again and learn to taste all the beauty that's inside Well ring the bells that lead you home cause the only truth i've ever known  is that nothing ever hurts us more than love so circle up your best of friends  and we'll celebrate the way it ends Atleast we live tonight Atleast we live tonight Scream out loud  until you feel again and hear the sound of how to heal an aching heart and those that know you most can help you to live again so keep them close as you're making your new start Well ring the bells that lead you home  cause the only truth i've ever known is that nothing ever hurts us more than love so circle up your best of friends  and we'll celebrate the way it ends Atleast we live tonight Atleast we live tonight The day you finally turn to dust and finally hear your name brings colors that will never fade away Sometimes the best all of us  can still break down  and still give up on love but it's never gone ... Tue, 27 Jul 2010 21:58:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/why-loved-inception/ i went for the upside down buildings and the special effects. These things will blow your mind and win awards but they are not the reasons you should go. You should go for the humanity of the film. You should go because you will relate to the people stuck in moments, the people living with ghosts, people trying to get home. You should go to be reminded that our lives are also stories and every good story is about someone fighting a battle and there are no enemies greater than the ones called guilt and regret, pain and shame. The movie serves as a reminder that these enemies unchecked will haunt and hunt you always. Thankfully, the movie also serves as reminder that people need other people, that our stories and our battles and our dreams, these things are meant to be shared.  i went for what i saw in the previews, fantastic things pushing and falling and exploding around the characters. i left thinking about the things that push and move in me, my ghosts and wars and dreams. The movie suggests that we are most alive and most awake when we are dreaming. And while a case could be made that it is speaking to the dreaming that occurs when we’re asleep, perhaps it’s true or even more true of the dreams we dream awake.  Inception suggests that there is much at stake; our hearts and our children and the air in our lungs. i am 30 years old. It doesn’t feel old but some days it sounds old when i say or see it. It’s easy to buy into the idea that “dreaming” is a silly word for children, that “battle” means the military and that ghosts are not real. Inception felt like an invitation, a reminder that there might be more to the story, a world we don’t see but one connected to the days we wake to. There is certainly much at stake. i don’t know your story or your dreams or the things that steal your sleep, but i know they matter. i hope your story is rich with other characters, rich with friends and conversation. i hope you know some people who will carry you and i hope you get to carry them. i hope that there is beauty in your memories and i hope it doesn’t haunt you. And if it does, then i hope there is someone who will talk you through the night and remind you of the promise of the sunrise, that beauty keeps coming, that there are futures worth waiting for and fighting for and that you were made to dream.  Peace to you tonight. jamie ... Tue, 20 Jul 2010 01:21:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/youre-invited/ We are fans of surprising stories, worlds colliding and things happening in places they would not normally happen. With those things in mind, you are invited to spend the evening of Wednesday, July 28 with the TWLOHA team in Melbourne, Florida. We’re excited to bring you Charlie St. Cloud, the new movie starring Zac Efron, two days before it comes out. Charlie St Cloud speaks to the pain of losing someone you love, the struggle to let go and the miracle of moving forward. Posters for the movie say it well: “Life is for living.”  Beyond the movie itself, we are excited for this event. Our aim is a unique evening that points to hope, help and community. Movie premieres tend to take place in New York and L.A. We love the idea of bringing a taste of those nights to the place we’re from. i grew up just across the bridge in Melbourne Beach and I’ve been seeing movies at this theater since i was a kid. Beyond our own roots, this is an attempt to celebrate you, to say that you are the star on this night. From 6 - 7:30, there will be photo opportunities, some music and speaking and the chance to meet our team. And just like HEAVY AND LIGHT, we will be highlighting local counseling and treatment resources. Then at 7:30, we will all watch Charlie St. Cloud together.  Here are the details: The event is free but space is limited. Reserve your tickets by emailing charlie@twloha.com with the name of each person in your party. An adult must accompany children under 13. Tickets can be picked up the day of the movie. If tickets are not picked up by 7PM, tickets will be given out first come first serve. You will need an ID to pick up tickets. Premiere Theaters Oaks 10 1800 W. Hibiscus Blvd. Melbourne, Florida 32901 On behalf of our entire team, we hope to see you soon!! Peace to you today.jamie ... Fri, 16 Jul 2010 14:06:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/lady-in-19f-1/ While working with To Write Love on Her Arms I’ve heard some amazing stories. I’ve listened, I’ve shared, and I’ve grown. We say it all the time, “your story is important,” because it is. Your story is one that was written with purpose. It’s still being written. Sometimes we suffer. Sometimes we stumble, we fall, and we can’t see how we can possibly get up. Our hearts break, our world seems to get darker, we feel alone. But through those struggles you learn and you grow. You figure out who you are. Two weeks ago I met an amazing woman on a plane to Cincinnati that helped me see that again.I woke up at 5am. My alarm went off and I began to slowly get dressed, mumbling under my breath about staying up late and needing more sleep. Whitney, Narika and I were heading to a festival in Pennsylvania and were in for a long day. Airport security lines stretched out into the atrium, children were crying, a whole family even jumped ahead of a line of people who had been waiting for awhile (us included). A crowded tram ride, a long walk to the terminal, and a quick breakfast later I was situated in my seat on the plane.Because my ticket had been booked after Whitney’s and Narika’s my seat was a few rows ahead of them. I settled into seat 19E, a center seat between a mother of two spunky girls across the aisle and a woman about my mother’s age with a warm smile and a People magazine beside the window, seat 19F.“You’ve got to let me know if that’s a good read,” I said with a smile, pointing at the front cover of the magazine. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted it or not.” She laughed and offered to let me have it once the flight was over. She wouldn’t need it for her connecting flight because she was certain she’d finish before this flight was through. We chatted for a moment and I learned she was on her way to Montreal to see her mother, though she was living in Florida just down the coast from my sleepy little town of Cocoa.The plane began to rumble down the runway and I popped in my headphones and attempted to catch a few moments of rest before the long day ahead of me officially began.The chime signaling that it was time to turn off portable electronic devices pulled me from my drowsy daze. The lady beside me was tapping her arm to the beat of the music in her own headphones as she flipped through her magazine. As I began to put away my iPod she began to do the same.“So,” she said, almost hesitantly, looking for a conversation, but unsure of my willingness to participate, “why are you going to Cincinnati?” I began to explain to her about To Write Love on Her Arms and our participation in the festival. Her eyes got wide as I talked about the need for conversations to start and for people to know they are not alone, that their stories are important. She told me that she works in education and feels like so many of her students struggle with the same issues I had just mentioned.“It’s so important,” she said. “I’m glad to have grown up in the 60’s! It was a lot less stressful, though my husband may not agree.” Seeing my confusion she began to tell me about how her husband and his five best friends enlisted in the army together straight out of high school and were deployed to Vietnam. She didn’t say how long it took, but within weeks of each other, each of her husband’s best friends were killed in the war. He was even shot down in a helicopter. “He lives with so much guilt and sadness. He doesn’t understand why he lived and they didn’t!” You could see how much she loved her husband as she spoke about him. Her eyes hurt for him, yet she smiled.“He’s had a good life! He lived! We got married young. We had three children.” My frustrations from the morning seemed to disappear as I listened to this woman weave her story for me. “I know we’re meant for so much, especially after 9/11. I was in the first tower, you know.”She went on to tell me about her morning on September 11, 2001, a morning where she decided to leave her desk on the 91st floor because she was hungry. She chatted with co-workers as she made her way to the elevator and ultimately ended up in the concourse below the streets of New York buying breakfast. It was then that the first plane hit, shaking the walls of the tower and causing a great commotion. The plane crashed into the building killing everyone on board as well as many of this woman’s co-workers, the co-workers she had just wished a good morning to. The fear and panic consumed the building and she quickly escaped and watched from six blocks away as the tower fell.2,995 people died in the attacks on America on September 11, 2001.2,995 people were lost, their families left behind, their stories ended too soon.She looked at me with a concrete assurance, “I’m not afraid of anything anymore. I don’t care about death. I faced death. My husband faced death. We’re alive and now it’s about living life and being happy.” Her words seemed to be like cold water rushing through my body. Goosebumps filled my arms and tears came to my eyes. This woman. This beautiful stranger sat beside me with a rare confidence about life. She shouldn’t be alive, but she is. She is! Her heart is beating and her lungs are breathing fresh air and she is alive! She began to describe how she doesn’t take for granted the little things anymore, “a small child’s giggle, a sunrise on the beach, spending time driving around and experiencing new things. Those are the moments you cherish no matter how small.”I didn’t know that getting onto that plane would change me. I didn’t know that the smiling woman reading a magazine would create a new sense of hope in my life. She revealed truths to me that I had forgotten, truths that rejuvenated me and gave me peace. She had lived, struggled, felt pain and fear. But through those struggles, through that pain, she was given hope. Switchfoot says that every breath is a second chance. This woman embraced that truth. She ran with it. As I got off the plane with her I thanked her for sharing her story with me. I let her know how much it touched me. She just smiled and told me to have a good trip to Pennsylvania and then she was gone, lost in a sea of travelers looking for their connecting flights.To the lady in 19F – thank you so much for sharing your life with me. Thank you for reminding me to embrace life and live. Your story is so important and meaningful.By: Holly Hallum---A special note about Holly:Holly was an intern here with us this past fall. After her internship, she stayed on with us part-time, helping Denny run the UChapters program, working as the Intern RA and investing herself as a member of our community here in Cocoa. We’re excited to share that as of yesterday, Holly joined our team full-time.Let her know how much her words mean to you, and join us in celebrating her today! ... Thu, 15 Jul 2010 10:40:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/new-video-solace-counseling-1/ Counselors Aaron and Michelle Moore have been part of the TWLOHA story since 2006, providing training to TWLOHA staff and interns and teaching at MOVE Community Conferences. They have spoken at HEAVY AND LIGHT the last two years and Aaron often joins Jamie on the road, bringing a counselor's perspective to TWLOHA events on college campuses.  Over the last four plus years, we've been able to give more than $750,000 to treatment and recovery. We love that beyond encouraging people to get the help they need, we are able to invest in solutions. TWLOHA began as an attempt to help one person in Central Florida and our team remains based in Central Florida. Last year, Aaron and Michelle opened Solace Counseling in Downtown Orlando. It's been our privilege to support them in the process. By supporting Solace, we love that we're able to continue helping people in the place where all of this started.  Wherever you live, if you are struggling, please consider seeing a counselor. We know the first step is often the hardest one to take, but we believe counseling is a great place to start your road to recovery. ... Wed, 14 Jul 2010 13:03:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/for-nate/ It was early Sunday evening when i first heard about the bombings in Uganda. I saw something from CNN on Twitter and instantly thought of my friends at Invisible Children, because Uganda is the focus of their mission. Members of their team live there and others join them throughout the year. I sent a text to my friend Jason Russell. Jason went to Uganda in 2003, one of three friends with cameras hoping to find a story. The story they would find would make it's way to people all over the world. What began as a DVD is now a global movement and a charity working to end the world’s longest running war.  When I sent the text, I hoped that I was only talking about a place. It was Uganda and so Jason needed to know. A place was bombed, a place my friends know as home even from across the miles. But the place was not the thing that caused the weight. It was the possibility of people. What if this bomb took people? What if it took a friend from my friends? I woke up yesterday to the awful news that the bombings in Uganda had taken the lives of 74 people and one among them was Nate "Oteka" Henn, a member of the Invisible Children team. Nate was an American living in Uganda. He had fallen in love with the mission of IC, devoting his life to the possibility of peace, volunteering without pay for over a year.  We have many friends at Invisible Children. We believe deeply in who they are and what they do. Our friends at IC are hurting right now. Nate's friends and family and the people of Uganda are hurting right now. We take this moment to say that they are not alone, that Nate's life mattered, that his story was important and will not be forgotten.  We hope you'll take a moment to learn more about Nate. He lived in a way that placed others above himself. With that, his life became a gift to many. His family has established the Nate Henn Memorial Fund so that other young people can experience the life Nate lived as a Roadie for Invisible Children. TWLOHA is proud to announce a donation of $1500 to the fund. TWLOHA exists to invite people to fight for their stories, to move beyond their pain by stepping into hope, help and community.We believe that every life matters. Every life in Uganda, every life in America, every life everywhere. When one suffers, we all suffer. Nate was in Uganda living a picture of this, trying to ease the suffering of others, injecting dignity where it had been lost, waking each day to place his hands against the wounds of a broken world, to try to stop the bleeding.   It seems Nate knew the thing that some never learn, that we are part of a bigger story, that our lives are gifts to give. May we walk the road he showed us and may we see him on the other side. In Loving Memory: Nate "Oteka" Henn  Peace to you today.jamie ... Tue, 13 Jul 2010 18:07:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/thank-you-again/ Back in January, i sat down to write a note of thanks for your incredible support in the initial Chase Community Giving. That contest went down to the wire and your votes pushed us all the way to 3rd place, which meant $100,000 toward IMAlive, the live online crisis network we're working to launch with our partners Kristin Brooks Hope Center and PostSecret.Now, only six months later, Chase Community Giving has happened once again and you guys were amazing once again. This time, we invited you to support Kristin Brooks Hope Center. Just like January, it came down to the final night. Thanks to your support, KBHC finished in 2nd to win another $100,000 for IMAlive. The PostSecret community continues to demonstrate generosity and passion beyond words. Frank Warren's Sunday morning "Please Vote" request on PostSecret.com translated to thousands of votes, helping KBHC to climb from 8th all the way to the top. While we were certainly aiming for that top spot, we want to take a moment to look at the bigger picture. First off, we want to say congratulations to the Harry Potter Alliance. Inspired by the stories of magic and wonder, Harry Potter fans are now working together to make the world a better place. We also want to congratulate the following organizations that finished in the Top 200 and will be receiving $20,000 for their cause: Music Saves Lives, The Mentoring Project, Pablove Foundation, Surfers Healing and Strange Tree Group. There are many organizations doing important work and meeting needs in creative ways. Beyond the funding, we think it's wonderful that Chase Community Giving is bringing attention to so many significant causes. The TWLOHA story is one of surprising open doors and you guys have always held the keys. You have taken our message and mission to places we never could have dreamed. Thank you for continuing to believe in hope and help. Thank you for your voices and your votes. Thank you for caring about people.Peace to you today.jamie ... Tue, 13 Jul 2010 12:23:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/what-found-out-something-already/ “I lost my cousin to suicide three days ago.” - West Palm Beach, FL “My daughter cuts and I don’t know why.” - Arlington, TX “I’m schizophrenic and have been suicidal for the past few years, but I have hope." - Houston, TX “My best friend is going into treatment this week. She’s been going in and out of centers for the past four years. I just want to help her.” - San Antonio, TX “I’m bipolar and I passed it on to both my children.” - Clarkston, MI “All I want to do is stop. Everyone is scared but I don’t know what to do.” - Charlotte, NC --- Thank you. I wish there was something deeper or more profound to say to those of you who visited the TWLOHA table and shared your story at The Bamboozle Roadshow this year. But nothing feels like it’s quite enough or conveys how truly grateful my heart is for having met all of you. The comments above are just a few of the many stories I was fortunate enough to hear during the six-week tour. The main reason we go on the road so much is to meet people where they are – to hear their hearts, and to present them with the idea, sometimes new, sometimes not so new, that they don’t have to live their lives alone. One of the biggest honors for me (and I’m comfortable saying this for our team as well) is being someone that a complete stranger trusts enough to share their darkest moments with. It’s beautifully overwhelming to be a person someone feels safe talking to about their struggles after only a brief introduction of names. My hope is that in these exchanges they (and possibly you) feel a bit of freedom from pain, and a sense of understanding. I also hope that you are able to be on the receiving end of conversations like this, to be someone that someone else needs. I left for this tour with a heavy heart and hoped that the road would make it light again. What I found out was something I already knew. It wasn’t the road that was making things easier, it was people; seeing old friends, making new ones, and meeting all of you. It was sharing TWLOHA and parts of myself with others. “Your story is important.” We say that a lot because it’s true. What you have to say, and what you’ve experienced deserves to be known by others. I wish for you this summer, and all the days after, that you have someone to share your story with. With Love,Chloe P.S. Thank you to Bamboozle for letting us join your traveling summer camp. Thank you to so many of the artists for being curious about what we do, for wanting to get involved, or for showing continued support. We’re grateful for our friends in Boys Like Girls, Forever The Sickest Kids, Third Eye Blind, LMFAO, The Ready Set, and Cady Groves who all rocked TWLOHA at some point during the tour. And a big thank you to my dear friend Martin of Boys Like Girls for wearing a TWLOHA shirt everyday of the tour and for all of your support. ... Sat, 10 Jul 2010 12:45:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/only-kind-they-fear/ Hey Guys.Wanted to invite you to check out my new blog on AltPress.com Wasn't sure what to write about but then i picked up a book called The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand last weekend - i'm early in the book but it's really been speaking to me. It put words to some things i've been feeling a while. i don't know about you but i feel like that's what a good book does. Anyway, my blog is inspired by that book. It's about following your heart and doing what you love, no matter what people say.It's an honor to be invited to write for Alt Press. Their magazine and website mean a lot to a lot of people so this is a chance for us to share the message and mission of TWLOHA with some new folks. i hope you'll check it out. Feel free to leave a comment too, to let them know what you think.  Peace to you today.jamie ... Thu, 08 Jul 2010 12:04:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/perfect-timing-from-jason-warped/ Hello Everyone,If you can believe it, we are already in our second week of Warped Tour. This summer marks the sixteenth year of Warped and the crew has once again done an outstanding job bringing us a dynamic line-up of bands, vendors and non-profits.  We are so fortunate to be able to set up every day at this festival.Emily and I are holding down the fort (tent) right now. We've also had some great volunteers, which helps so much. It is so good to see some familiar faces at the festival already. Thank you to you guys who have come up to talk and who support TWLOHA. It fuels us and helps us make it through every day of this tour.And while we meet so many supporters who believe in our message, we also meet some who are skeptical. Last week, a younger man named Scott came asking about our organization. He walked up to the booth, read our mission statement, and asked, “I can see this (the mission statement on an info card) but I want to know what you really do to help?” After I explained to him what the organization does, he immediately opened up and shared some of his story. Once, in a moment of desperation, he was very close to attempting suicide. The only thing that kept him alive had been his wife coming home. Perfect timing. He is now seeking therapy and professional help.At the Warped Tour stop in Ventura, all of the security guards were volunteers. And not just any volunteers, but military. A whole battalion had given up their time on a Sunday to make sure that the people at Warped were safe and having a good time. I ended up striking a conversation with one guard named Kevin. Kevin was short and had red hair. He looked young and his face was burnt from the long day. I pointed out his sunburn and we just started chatting from there. I explained the mission of TWLOHA and why we want to be at events like this, and he explained to me how he has suffered from PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). He has been deployed to Iraq twice, and is now at home seeking help for his PTSD and spending time with his family. Both of these young men share at least three things in common: they are both military veterans, they have seen the dark places that hurt and are hard to get out of, and both of them are seeking help to lift them out of those places. The reason I share both of these with you is because both of the stories of these young men are so hopeful. They both provide hope and show stories of redemption.The government has a program called Military One Source for anyone who has served and is struggling that will assist and help pay for help. Both of these men have utilized these programs and found help. If you are struggling and feel like you need some assistance, I hope Kevin and Scott’s stories have given you some encouragement to seek it out.I want to thank all of you again for coming to the tent to show support or curiosity. And thank you to Scott and Kevin for sharing some personal things. Kevin’s wife is pregnant with their first child, and he finds out soon whether it is a boy or girl.Good luck Scott and Kevin. You made my day.  With Hope,Jason BladesPS: CLICK HERE to see all upcoming Warped Tour dates.  ... Wed, 07 Jul 2010 16:00:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/hope-you-felt-fireworks/ It's funny that i don't remember loving the 4th of July as a kid. Because it's become one of my favorite holidays. And this may sound bad but it's not really about America for me. Don't get me wrong - i love America, i am grateful and proud to live here, grateful for my freedom and aware of it's cost. But if i'm honest, that's not what i think about when i watch the colors explode in the night. i think about wonder and i think about hope.  i've watched with our gang, all of us laughing in a van pushing through the black corn distance of Illinois. Last year in love and on a boat in Florida, this year inside a skyline beside a thousand strangers on 11th Avenue in Manhattan. There was one a few years ago where i just went to sleep. Awake meant pain and so i just tried to sleep.  Perhaps you have to have a little bit of hope to believe that beauty can be found, to believe that life does come back, that something can surprise you. And maybe they're somehow related. Maybe wonder feeds hope and hope feeds wonder. You see something beautiful and it reminds you that it's possible to see something beautiful. We got in a cab last night and laughed at our own destination. "We want to see the fireworks," i told the driver, hoping he would know just the place. He took us to 49th Street and 7th Avenue and we walked the rest of the way, joining the giant crowd on 11th, as far west as they would let us go. We had hoped to go to the edge, to stand against the water, just us and the bright night sky. Instead, we had to watch between the buildings. And though it was not the view we had imagined, it was still beyond incredible. The grand finale came as constant color, thunder shapes dancing and painting the sky. And it struck me that we were all there by choice and by chance. We were there to watch the wonder, no one telling us what to do or how to respond. In the final minute, as the skies exploded, we did the same, all of us clapping and cheering. We had become one thing. It was a significant moment for me in this my new home, not forever but for now. This city never stops. People call it a monster and talk about feeling swallowed and alone. People constantly give up and go home with broken dreams, feeling invisible, feeling forgotten.  But last night i saw it pause. i saw thousands of people walk west with hope to catch a glimpse and then i saw them see it.  i can't say why each person went or what their story was before the moment. i can only tell you that i went to feel alive. i went because it's too easy to forget, to believe the black night sky is only always black. i went to stand next to my friends in hopes that we could share this, remember this. Last night, i hope you felt the fireworks. i hope you saw the wonder when skies filled up with color. And in the moment, i hope you were reminded that it's possible, that beauty still happens. We don't only live in books awake and dreams asleep. We are living our stories you and i, with dreams inside us undeniable, love to give and people to walk with.  i hope for you what i hope for myself. i hope for you the hope to know it. Peace to you. jamie ... Mon, 05 Jul 2010 09:23:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/new-video-twloha-at-sasquatch/ A couple weeks back, we had the privilege of being part of Sasquatch Festival at the Gorge in George, Washington. It was an incredible event and to say that it happened at a beautiful place would be more than an understatement. ... Wed, 30 Jun 2010 09:59:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/certain-kind-magic-in-nashville-1/ I grew up throwing dirt clods for sport and listening to Garth Brooks and Vince Gill on cassette tapes. Bare feet and dirt roads.When I was older, four-wheelers and trails through the woods. In high school, I was a part of the self-proclaimed redneck crowd, donned in Carhart coats, socializing around their oversized trucks with lift-kits. I still remember when my dad moved out when I was in second grade into another trailer across town. He had cable, and I was introduced to CMT and music videos. All that is to say, I was raised in the country on country music.Though my musical tastes are broad, country music emanates this feeling of home. There is this unparalleled community that happens in the country music world. There is a shared history and love of the South and its culture, a fondness for simple pleasures in life, and the sweet twang—all of these things bringing musicians and fans together.Jess and I share an office, so when she looked up the information about CMA Fest, I was the first to hear about it. My job is mostly administrative and doesn’t require me to go on the road very much, but I knew that if TWLOHA was going to be at CMA Fest I wanted to be there.  Of the fourteen people on staff, Jess, Chris, and I are the only country fans.  Chris is from Georgia, so it’s a part of his soul. Jess is a diehard fan and has adopted a bit of a twang. But we were sure it wouldn’t work, because summer is our busiest season, and TWLOHA has never been involved with the country music world at all.Jamie and Rich said yes. Surprised but incredibly excited, Jess submitted our application.  The CMA Fest only has three or four nonprofits, a much smaller number than we’re used to so we were unsure whether or not we would get picked. Next thing I know, Chris is packing the back of the Jeep like a jigsaw puzzle while Jess, Emily, and I organize pillows, snacks, and music for the long drive to Nashville.  Although Emily wasn’t a big country fan before the festival, she left singing along to Lady Antebellum and Carrie Underwood (and is still laughing about Blake Shelton’s jokes).I’ve been back for two weeks and I’m still smiling and singing Zac Brown Band’s “Free” with a majestic hope in my heart. I said the words, “we’re a nonprofit raising awareness about depression, addiction, self-injury, and suicide” with an info card in my hand and sweat trickling down my back 847 times, and I didn’t get tired of it. Some people politely listened feigning interest and others really heard me and tied a string from themselves to us because somehow our story was their story too.  Peggy didn’t expect to be so drawn in. She stopped at the McDonald’s tent to get a snack for her granddaughter waiting at the picnic table when our funny name caught her eye. For the 321st time, I told a stranger who we are. Holding back tears, she told us about her niece Jeanie and how much Jeanie needed to know about us. “This is so Jeanie, all Jeanie,” she kept saying and shared how Jeanie has dealt with great loss and pain in the last year. Peggy walked away and wasn’t a stranger anymore.  The next day, Chris was helping a petite soft-spoken woman with her blonde hair cropped just above her shoulders who was learning about us for the first time. I came up when she was paying for her Love is the Movement shirt. Holding back tears and digging in her wallet, her gaze not meeting our eyes, she said she lost her brother to suicide. I said I was so sorry to hear that and Chris asked her name. Asking someone their name gives them this unspoken validation that they matter even though they may be a stranger. Through her smile, she said her name was Lisa, and I knew I would never forget her. She looked at me and said, “Mom and Dad have never been the same,” and I said, “Yeah, it changes everything—nothing and no one is ever the same.” She nodded, and I asked when her brother passed sure that it was within the past few months. Her voice cracked as she said, “1986.” I tried to contain my surprise. I haven’t lost someone to suicide, so I haven’t dealt with that kind of pain personally. Her brother has been gone longer than I have been alive, and her pain at losing him is still so fresh and real. She held up her shirt, bowed her head, and said thank you as she walked away, and I wonder who is more grateful that she stopped at our tent—her or us?At CMA Fest during the day different zones are open and most of them free to the public, but at five booths start closing up for the night for everyone to get dinner and make the trek to LP Field across the bridge for the evening concerts. Passes to the concerts were included with our booth package, so each night we joined more than 40,000 people to sing and dance to our favorite country songs. Anyone who enjoys seeing live music knows the magic of being in a crowd of people, singing the same song at the top of your lungs and getting goose bumps. It doesn’t always happen that way in the nosebleeds, but during Keith Urban’s set it was inevitable.In case you haven’t heard, Nashville had an awful flood the first weekend in May. Most of downtown Nashville (where CMA Fest is held) was under water.  In the beginning, the media didn’t give it much coverage and the city wasn’t getting help from the outside. But Nashville banded together, pulled themselves up and did what they had to do to get their city on its feet again. Restaurants spent their days making bag lunches and giving them away throughout the city, while other people worked to repair the damage. A little more than a month later, they were ready to host the first ever sold out CMA Fest.Keith played his whole set, then he talked about Nashville and the flood. He talked about how proud he was to be a part of a city with such a strong community, how people joined together without thinking twice, and how important it was for all of us to be there at CMA Fest, how much Nashville needed us to come. He dedicated his next song to the city and the people and launched into a cover of “With a Little Help from my Friends” with Little Big Town. The performers at Heavy and Light this year also covered this song, but this performance had a different force, a different power, a different magic with images from the flood flashing on the screen behind the band. We stood and we sang and we rocked (yes, we still rock out in country music). In The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Charlie talks about this moment where he and his friends are singing together in the truck and he says he felt infinite (page 39), and this night, this song, this moment is infinite for all 40,000 of us.  Depression doesn’t care if you wear a cowboy hat with Wranglers or skinny jeans with Converse shoes. I hope that through this small window into what may be a different world you see that this story may be your story too. It may look different and sound different, but pain is universal. Hope is too. That’s why we went because everyone is a part of this ongoing conversation. May your life look like this—where strangers become friends in an instant, where 40,000 people can feel like family, where a song and a few pictures become an infinite moment you want to tuck away so you can take it out again and again.  So much love to all of you strangers reading this.Know that there is someone down in Florida who believes in you.Thank you for letting me be a part of your story.whitney ... Tue, 29 Jun 2010 13:38:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/flowers-to-sea/ A town is a place but it is more that thing where stories tie together. Moments hilarious and terrible and amazing inspire nicknames and people gather around food and laughter. People come together to live and tell their stories and it all adds up to form something bigger, the story of a town. Virginia Beach is a surfing town and i have been there now. Zeke died five years ago, his death a suicide, a choice and moment just like millions more, except the kind that’s all too final, the kind that leaves no room for others. First Street, this ocean, this place, is where his ashes were scattered. Men who love the land, you give them to the land, but surfers do it different. Surfers paddle out, hold hands and make a circle, ashes to the water along with flowers. And then we scream and splash and say goodbye. Perhaps we scream because it’s impossible. Zeke’s friends did this on a freezing cold January day in 2006, two hundred people in the water and as many or more standing on the sand, a scene that made the News.i wasn’t there that day but i was there yesterday, for the 5th Annual “Zeke’s Lil Rat Surfcus,” a unique surfing competition meant to make kids smile. Creativity is often born from suffering and this is also that, Zeke’s friends and family doing their best to create something special in his honor, beauty born from pain.We woke up early to set up tents and prepare for the day. The kids arrived and the contest began at 8. I watched as Zeke’s mom, quiet and humble, worked to make sure everything was perfect for the kids. Every boy and every girl got an official contest t-shirt, black and white so that they could add the colors. She set up a table with fabric markers so that they could make their art. Zeke was always drawing and painting so this made perfect sense. She brought bubbles and water guns so that the kids could be kids, so that they could play and smile. This is crucial because we get older and we forget how to play. Pain and worry come to steal our smiles. Mothers, the good ones, they fight to let us keep them. Zeke is gone but his mother is still a mother.Midway through the morning, she walked away without announcement, away from the buzz and noise and laughter of the contest. She walked alone, away from the tents, across the sand toward the rocks that form the jetty. She walked with flowers and Nicole told me they were sunflowers, because you give sunflowers to the people that you truly love. The kids near us cheered and screamed for reasons unrelated, the surfers surfed and the announcers added noise. She moved slowly across the rocks and at the end, she stopped and threw the flowers to the sea.“She does this every year, today and on his birthday and on the day he died,” Nicole told me as we watched.She paused for just a moment and I watched her walk back and I watched her wipe her eyes.Two hours later, I sat down in the empty chair beside her.“Today must be bittersweet for you,” I said, after small talk and some silence.“Every day is bittersweet,” she replied.We sat for some time, often without words, under a burning summer sun. I didn’t offer answers because I had no answers to offer. When we did talk, we talked about family and pain and change. We talked about her wonderful brilliant grandson and we talked about my sisters.Zeke was my friend when we both worked at Hurley, and his Nicole has become my friend over the last year. I came to Virginia to support her and to meet the other characters, the friends with nicknames, his family, his town. I didn’t know it when I bought my ticket but I came to watch a mother remember her son, to say in her own way, that she remembers, that he was significant, that she is still his mother.Every single kid who surfed in the contest left with information about TWLOHA and a TWLOHA t-shirt. There was no epic speech but it moved me to know that every single kid left that beach with a bag marked “Hope is real. Help is real. Your story is important.”The hope in all of that, the reason TWLOHA exists, is to keep the flowers from the sea. Death will come for all of us but let us fight to live. Let us bury our mothers and them not us. And if it should happen the other way or if it already has, i hope you get to know the privilege of seeing them remember. i hope you get to sit with them in silence, the silence simply honest and neither of you alone because the other is there.In Loving Memory: Zeke SandersPeace to you today.jamie ... Sun, 20 Jun 2010 17:45:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/an-hour-in-union-station-1/ This blog was written on June 4, 2010. --- It is Thursday (but technically Friday) and I am sitting in Union Station in downtown Los Angeles waiting for the 1:25 am bus to take me to Bakersfield to catch a train heading north to see my parents. I have only been here once before, and it was for a brief moment when I ran past everything without really noticing anything. This time I have an extra hour before I need to leave, so I take the time to observe my surroundings. Union Station is a beautiful old building full of decorative tiles and leather chairs and wood trim on the ceiling. It’s a place I imagine Winston Churchill or FDR enjoying because it’s what I picture being "exquisite" during their lifetimes. Union Station is also a building full of people who don’t have homes, places to go, or people to share their stories with. Many of the faces you pass look just as weathered as the walls. As I sit in one of the old-fashioned, brown leather chairs, I notice a security guard walking around, gently waking people up and asking, “Can I see your ticket?” The response from the person is typically one of confusion, or a rustle of pockets yielding no money or ticket, followed by silence as the sleepy person walks out into the early morning. They all give the ticket man the same look: pain. I quietly ask the security guard, “How do you do this everyday?” “Eventually you just get used to it. It’s always the same.” The words roll around in my mind for long time. I try to wrap my head around each of them, to somehow make sense of their meaning. “It’s always the same.” Why? It doesn’t have to be. We are not meant to live our lives in such brokenness. Every one of these people has a story, and each just as important. Why do we feel as if their lives are so drastically different from the security guard’s? And from my life. Or maybe yours too. My heart aches for lonely, broken people. But also for the security guard, who has to send them away everyday, into a place where shelter may not meet them. And for the people who have a roof, and a bed, but still feel alone – my heart aches for you, and sometimes for me, because at times it feels lonelier in a crowded room than it does in an empty home. So if that’s you right now, please know it is possible to find a place where you feel alive. You are meant for that. You deserve to have a place to go and rest. It may not involve a roof, but it will involve people. And in the sharing of your story with others, you give them permission to do the same. With Love, Chloe ... Wed, 16 Jun 2010 00:00:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/mini-documentary-twloha-our-naperville-1/ A guy called Erik Carlson asked if he could film our Naperville, IL event a couple months back. He said he wanted to ask some questions for a project he had in mind. We had never heard of him at the time but we are beyond impressed by what he put together.  To Write Love on Her Arms Documentary from Cabin Cabbage on Vimeo. Huge Thanks to Erik and Cabin Cabbage Productions! ... Sun, 13 Jun 2010 14:42:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/so-remember-later/ Dear Today (or Yesterday as the case may be), I am thankful you happened.I believe I can confidently say that today was the best Memorial Day I’ve ever had.The others were fine, but they were just days, the possibility of a break from school or work, and (if I remembered) for remembering people who have served in my place to protect a freedom I take for granted.(And perhaps I am a horrible person for not remembering, but that is a different blog.)But today, I remember.Today, I remember we are broken creatures.I remember our brokenness is not the end, that we can let the light in through the cracks.I remember intersections mean that we are coming from different angles.I remember to be thankful for the crossing.I remember we must work to sew ourselves to each other.I remember pulling the threads takes steady fingers and commitment.I remember that roots are worth it, no matter how temporary.And these are pretentious and varying metaphors, yet they completely capture my Memorial Day.Today was made of a few good conversations leading me to all those conclusions.Tonight, I sat at a picnic table with a woman I should, by all potential intersections, already know but didn’t until two weeks ago.As the water steadily slapped the rocks and the clouds moved like a slideshow above us, we talked about Ms. Britt and Meredith College, our love for the most beautiful of the Carolinas, the strings that attach us to where we come from and where we’ve been, and the women we believe we’ve always been and are becoming more of everyday.When I talked about feeling like my strings are tight and the strain hurts, she tilted my perspective. She reminded me that tight strings make for beautiful melodies and maybe my melody of this time will serve a purpose for someone else.And maybe that doesn’t sound profound to you, reading this on a screen.Maybe you need the darkness and streetlights and rock-slapping water to get the full effect, but for me, for tonight, she gave the metaphor a weight I needed to see.And I remember why I wanted to come here.It was for conversations like today, for the intentional and genuine curiosity of a stranger that plants the seeds of beautiful friendships.It was for nights like tonight, where, despite the bugs and the heat and the humidity and the creepers, we were not leaving that fucking bench.Days like today make me feel more alive and more myself.And I remember my story is mine, and I choose how to tell it.Dear Today, I needed you very much.Love and hope and grace and peace to you on this Tuesday.May you have days like this, where you write all the details because they are too good for the possibility of forgetting.Thank you for reading.whitneyPS: To read more of Whitney's writing, check out her blog. ... Tue, 01 Jun 2010 13:25:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/uchapter-tour-video-3-know/ Spring 2010 UChapter Tour - University of South Carolina from To Write Love on Her Arms. on Vimeo. ... Tue, 01 Jun 2010 09:34:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/memorial-day/ Please remember the ones who can't forget, the soldiers forever trying to get home, trying to let go, to be okay...To soldiers and to the friends and family of soldiers, we pause to acknowledge you today, to say that you matter. The things you've seen, the things you've lost, the battles that you fight, the dreams that steal your sleep - may we never call them small.And we apologize today, for the ways that we forget, for the ways that we are selfish, for our lack of understanding. Perhaps the ones who've never been there, we can't begin to comprehend words like "war" and "fight" and "home." We don't know what they weigh and what they cost.To the ones who fought for peace and freedom, we pray those things for you. We pray rest and hope and healing, and innocence again. We pray for people who will listen and the strength in you to speak. May other people know you, walk with you in the questions and recovery. May you get the help you need, the help that you deserve.Today, we say that we see you, and not only as a soldier but also as a person. Someone not unlike us. You are significant. You are not forgotten.Finally, humbly, thank you.Peace to you today.Jamie ... Mon, 31 May 2010 10:40:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/you-matter-very-much/ i hope you know you're not the only one who feels the way you feel. You are not the only one who struggles. You are not the only one with questions. You are not crazy. You deserve to be heard, to be known. You deserve love.  You deserve love. You deserve a place that feels like home. You deserve some hands to hold. Hands to pull you past the broken moments, hands to catch you when you fall. Eyes to see you. To say you're there, that you exist, that you change a room, that your presence is significant. Ears to hear you - hear your stories, hear you laugh. Ears to hear your questions and to say they matter.  Your questions matter.   Maybe call a friend today or invite someone to coffee. Tell someone they matter or tell someone you could use a conversation. Write a letter or ask someone how they're doing. Like a song too much. Feel the drums or get lost in the chorus. It means that you're alive.  It's good that you're alive. Who else could play your part?  i hope you get to a place, wake to a day, where that feels true. You deserve to know it's true.  To Write Love on Her Arms is a community of people with questions and struggles. It is for broken people and it is led by broken people. Life is heavy and light. Life is both. Beauty and pain, aches and dreams... We are saying that it's okay to talk about those things. We are saying that we need to. We are choosing to believe that stories deserve better endings. That hope is real, that help is real, that people need other people.  You are not alone today. You matter very much.  Peace to you. jamie ... Sun, 23 May 2010 14:39:00 PDT http://www.twloha.com/blog/uchapter-tour-video-2-hope/ The TWLOHA Spring 2010 UChapter Tour visited the University of South Alabama on April 27, 2010. This event was one of 28 across the U.S. and Canada. The goal was to use the songs of Damion Suomi, Andy Zipf and Lauris Vidal to inspire conversations about pain, hope and community. ... Wed, 19 May 2010 15:40:00 PDT