International Day of Peace

Back in college, I went through a particularly rough breakup and decided that the logical solution was to go and get a tattoo from my dear friend Tanya at Medusa Tattoo on St. Marks Place.  Tanya asked me to write in her book about why this tattoo and why this day, and I wrote "Because it's the International Day of Lauren, celebrating in 75 countries worldwide!"  Thus began a tradition of annual self-indulgence and self-care. 

This year, it looks a lot different from when I was 19.  Woke up with a migraine, tried to sleep a little bit more, took the kids to school and have been folding laundry and watching Gracie's Corner with Pape, who just turned 1.  We went for a walk in the park and moved our bodies, and have been trying to care for our space.  Amazing how different seasons of life greet you, but anniversaries of something call you back to your former self. 

I have been beating the drum of self-care for so many years, even pre-COVID, and now I feel like it's been co-opted by capitalism and become an industry.  How can you take care of yourself by buying something?  I consciously resist this, and am actually sorting and preparing to give things away: kids' boots, sports equipment, winter coats and sweaters that fit last year and will not this year.   I take care of myself and our space by letting go, organizing, making space for ourselves. 

About 10 years and 5 tattoos later, I learned that September 21st is also the International Day of Peace.  It seems a fitting day that I chose to claim for myself; as I work in peacemaking and helping young people see the beauty of peace as a way to begin the healing process.  We have difficult conversations with the intention of ending drama that stems from miscommunication.  We aim to have a community where folks can be their true, authentic selves and co-exist across difference.  

Even as I type this, I find myself on the slippery slope of talking parenting and talking job when I explore what's going on with myself.  I wonder how 19 year old Lolo would feel about how decentralized I've become to myself, and how it's sometimes necessary; I can still love myself, love my life and what I've built, celebrate the song of myself, even as I make it daily practice to care for others and build community. 

May you find peace in your heart today, and space to breathe. 

trying to carve space

 i led a writing workshop last weekend inspired by women writers of color, Gloria Anzaldúa in particular, and thinking about all of the ways in which women create magic from the ordinary.  but i cannot find a small moment of exhale for myself, a crack in the surface to begin creating.  maybe someday soon... until then, i'm breathing in inspiration: 

Mumu Fresh - Practice

Nas feat. Hit Boy/Shaka Senghor - Composure

Chika - Crown

Joey Bada$$ - Make Me Feel

Kenyatta Rashon - I AM

Formula 734 feat. Buff 1/Rod Wallace - Billfolds 

Che Noir - Fruits of My Labor

Athletic Mic League - Hold My Hand

Koffee - Lonely

Enny feat. Jorja Smith - Peng Black Girls Remix

the irony of this workshop was something I had to name: I too struggle, I am no expert at this, we are co-creating this space together.  we came up with a list of strategies for finding space for writing, but even as I led the workshop, the baby squealed from the other room, the kids came to visit/interrupt and I struggled with the time and space to truly focus.  

still, the dedication of 20 minutes to alliteration, rhyme and rhythm makes the difference, and I need to put it into practice.  making dirty the pages of the journals that are too pretty to write in, just a few lines of a blog post is better than nothing at all.  i know that I exist somewhere, under motherhood, beneath teaching and grant-writing and all that I do.  i am not my production, and I am valuable even and because i choose to rest and enjoy life.  

how many times do i have to say this out loud before i believe it?