Self

Ballers

Posted on by Lauren

“Unfair!” “Bad call!”  “These refs are the worst.”

All sentiments I heard from my players last basketball season.

Victims.

At our last practice, I gave each girl a flashlight. 

“Ultimately, you choose what you shine your light on.  Are you going to shine it on what is out of your control?  Unfair players and referees?  Offensive injuries?  Or, instead, are you going to shine your light on what you CAN do.  Are you going to see the possibility?”

In the heat of the moment, the lesson remains true: Focus on what you alone can control.

This same principle applies to my daughters with nightmares. 

Can we control the terrible thoughts that enter our heads?  Not always.

But can we allow them to pass by us like a moving thundercloud without allowing them to rain on our parade?  Yes. 

We can choose to shine our light, our thoughts on something that brings us joy. 

A recent trip to the beach, the taste of ice cream, a memory of snow. The possibility.

No, we cannot control that which offends our personal space. 

But we surely can control how we respond to it.  

It’s our light. 

And we choose where it shines. 

Ballers.

Camille Vaughan Photography

Story

Posted on by Lauren

I try. 

I keep trying to see that little face amongst the venom that spews from her mouth. 

But she’s not my little girl anymore. 

No, she is her own. 

And boy, does she have a lot to say. 

How do I tell her?

How can she know, I am the mother I never had?

Oh, but wait. 

This is her story, not mine. 

I was 30 hours into labor when my midwife dropped that truth bomb on me. 

“This is not your story, Lauren. It’s hers.”

Good God. 

Nice to know, now. 

I gave birth to a new human.  

Not a continuation. 

Instead, our contribution.  

We try. 

We listen. 

We recognize. 

She has a lot to say. 

This is her story. 

Not ours. 

Nice to know. 

Always. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Love is Love

Posted on by Lauren

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The Great Facade

Posted on by Lauren

“It’s ok to feel your feelings.” I whispered into her ear as she sobbed.

She’s been so angry lately. 

But I knew better. 

This had nothing to do with who she is

And everything to do with what she felt. 

She was lost and anger was the easiest path.  

Let’s be real. 

It’s easier to be angry than it is to admit you’re vulnerable and wounded. 

The Great Facade.

Camille Vaughan Photography

Smoke

Posted on by Lauren

“God-or whoever is in charge of this planet- got drunk on the job one day and decided to give me the gift of writing. The way I see it, I have two choices. I can set that gift high on a shelf so it won’t get dinged up and nobody can make fun of me for playing with it.” He smiled until the crinkles at the corner of his eyes were deep enough to hide state secrets.  “Or, I can have fun with it and play with the gift I was given until the engine burns out and the wheels come off. I decided to play. I suggest you do the same, young man.  Go paint or draw or collage or whatever you want to do.  Come back when there’s smoke coming off the canvas. And for God’s sake, go have some fun. Please?” – Shaffer, 2023 P. 78

I am so. Damn. Proud. Of myself.  

I have written, since I could. 

Diaries with useless locks and keys.  

Journals considered my closest confidant. 

“Dear Journal, You are the only one I can talk to.”  

Everyone wanted to be Carrie but I knew, I already was Carrie.  

It took one high school teacher mentioning, “You are a gifted writer.”  

And over a decade later, a neighbor suggesting, “You should start a blog.”  

For me to start a blog.  

How will I ever properly thank them for the journey they have encouraged me to record?

I keep writing, that’s how. 

I play with the gift I was given until there’s smoke coming off my paper. 

And for God’s sake. 

I have fun.  

Camille Vaughan Photography

Special thanks to The Wishing Game by Meg Shaffer

Peace

Posted on by Lauren

At first, a thread. 

Then, the seam. 

Piece by piece, 

My unraveling.

Not the sort you might think:

My pretty dress, favorite shirt. 

Instead, my knots. 

My tension, stress, anxiety.  

Bit-by-bit, 

Loosening.  

Letting go. 

They are all off to school.  

I said no to volunteering. 

And here I am. 

Unraveling the last dozen years. 

There was a moment when I considered adding to the size of this knot.

More money, more things, more praise.

Instead, 

Less. 

Unraveling.

Piece to Peace.

Camille Vaughan Photography

Captain

Posted on by Lauren

They were my island. 

My safe haven from the rushing waters. 

In time, the shoreline shrank, leaving me grasping for olive branches. 

I had a choice to make. 

Do I stay, hoping and praying for the island to return?

Instead, I let go. 

Allowing the current to take me. 

I built my own boat from the surrounding pieces of my life. 

And found myself stronger than ever. 

The Captain. 

Dee Akright Photography

Inside

Posted on by Lauren

He said, “I wasn’t sure you still had it in you. You’ve been inside so much.”

I laughed.

Oh, you think?

You think I’ve been inside a lot the last 12 years of raising our children?

Yes.

I’ve been inside cooking meals and folding laundry. 

I’ve been inside doctor’s offices and school buildings. 

I’ve been inside the heart of our family. 

But please don’t lose sight of me. 

My soul has always lived outdoors. 

I’m still here. 

I’ve been here all along.  

Far

Posted on by Lauren

I spent the better part of my first forty years desperate for others to understand how far I’ve come from where I started. 

Surely, they’d respect and understand me more?

But now I know, we all have stories, untold. 

And it’s best to approach all with the grace we’ve always wished upon ourselves. 

Hold my hand. 

Lean in. 

We’ve come so far. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Barbie

Posted on by Lauren

I just experienced the Barbie movie.

And I’m shook. 

It moved me to tears.  

This movie was masterfully made. 

Funny, thought-provoking and meaningful. 

The set design was epic. 

The cast, impeccable. 

The humanity- relatable. 

 A mother and her “tween” daughter at odds who ultimately work together to help Barbie and her land find their purpose. 

America Ferrera’s speech to “wake up” the barbies: “I’m just so tired of watching myself, and every single other woman, tie herself into knots so that people will like us.”

Me too, Barbie. 

Me too.