Excuse Me, Life!

So many labels...   Everyone searching for an identity... a way to find a sense of belonging. Or the labels people place on us so they can somehow make sense of us. The very thing we use to relate to one another also divides us. An important distinction: the label itself isn't what divides us... rather, it's our judgements about the label. The thing I can't stand about labels... they put us in a box. We automatically cut ourselves off from experiences that can be magical. We miss out on connecting with incredible people. We rob ourselves from truly seeing and being with others. To think that I almost passed on my husband because he used the word universe, was into stones, Buddha and astrology. Things the traditional church programmed me to have judgements towards. The more I open my mind to see beyond my own judgements and thoughts about certain labels... the more I realize how often labels get in our way... the more more I ask myself, "Are we all real

I feel as if I'm processing at hyper speeds that my body cannot keep up with but my spirit says need not worry. I let go to find this unexplainable peace that to the logical brain makes no sense because one must analyze and understand...  I begin to see beyond the labels society has tarnished with its judgements and concerns.  I wonder... I explore...  If I stay here too long I fear I cannot be related to as merely a soul. I return to words in an attempt to communicate. So here I am... writing for the balance of mind, body, soul.

"Wait, you go to church?" Interesting to take note of the comments people make when they learn that I go to church. I still almost don't believe myself when I say I go to church. Never thought I'd step foot back in one let alone openly share that I go. I wouldn't want someone thinking I'm a judgmental, double-standard hypocrite!   What made me return to church? THE PEOPLE! Meeting awesome people in my every day life who happened to be part of a church. I suppose if they were part of a bowling league this post would be talking about how I now bowl...   They didn't have Christian jargon coming out of their mouth every other sentence. If that were the case my church PTSD would have shut the door immediately.   Their Instagram feeds showed real life rather than it being full of long prayers, scriptures and shots of their bible next to their coffee. They openly drank, said a curse word every now and then, made perverted jokes for fun... I mean th

Here I am, back writing after four years... revisiting a Lauren from THEN who lived a lie that went something like this: "I can't be me... If I show struggle, If I ask the hard questions... I'll be told stupid things that don't make sense. Just fake it so they leave you alone, save yourself the confusion of never getting it." Having been raised in the church I observed how others talked, acted, their testimonies... I would try so hard to find anything that resembled that in my life... I started to believe my own faking and craved experiences to validate what I so badly did not understand deep down.  It became a game of forcing scenarios, everything from thinking God told me this... to God gave me this... look at me, look at me... I'm such a good example of Christ! These were my explanations when I got laid off from my first job out of college in 2011 and unwillingly returned to Dayton. The scariest part -- I believed it. Before I knew it I had created