Hello and welcome, hopefully again, to another installment of my series, It Is That Deep.
It has been a while, and I came here to explain share where I’ve been, where I am, and where I want us to go, together.
Can I start by saying how much I miss this space!? Dwntwn Brwn is such a special part of my life, and I think about her every day. We became official, and by official I just mean registered as a business in the spring of 2026. Dwntwn Brwn existed long before legal papers were filed, and I believe we will continue to nourish and support The Collective far beyond our time to transition to our next adventure. I’ve been blessed with the spaciousness to meditate on the staying power of Divine Offerings and Appointments. I’m sure many entrepreneurs, creators, and founders can resonate with the feeling that what we create feels like an offering of sorts. I’m sure many of us wouldn’t have embarked on the journey that is creation if we didn’t feel called, or rather, appointed.
This energy feels so fresh, especially coming off the historic heels of the 2026 U.S. Midterm election. I remember sitting in a local Atlanta bar eight years ago, holding my breath for a win for Stacy Abrams—it didn’t come. Six years later, I held my breath for a win for Kamala Harris—it didn’t come. However, this go-round, I didn’t feel the usual nudge to hold my breath, but rather breathe into what I knew was possible and what would serve The Collective’s highest good. I felt a renewed sense of hope and optimism after witnessing this hope in action in Brazil, Israel, and Serbia. My faith in the living, in humanity, in collective power was actively being restored, and I felt that energy blossoming within me.
I have a long and storied history with my breath. I was no stranger to holding in my air, feeling the tightness in my stomach, suspending the natural rhythms of my lungs and chest. While I won’t get into the myriad reasons why I longed for control of what came naturally, this year my body hit a breaking point after years of ignored signals and messages.
Perhaps you’ve received an automated email response from me announcing my absence from my 9-5 until 2027. A rather abrupt development, that was as mysterious to me writing it as it probably was to receive it. In the last month, I have been rather reluctant to share my inner world, but I feel it may help someone on the other side of the screen. After a much-needed summer sabbatical, I returned to work not feeling renewed or reinvigorated, but rather uninspired and in limbo. Turns out it takes more than six weeks to recover from burnout and to gather inspiration to forge forward.
Before I continue, I should also share that every spring at the start of the New Year, I come into agreement with a personal theme. 2026 is my Homecoming. At the start of the year, I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant or how it would unfold. What I felt then was an undeniable calling back home—to my body, to my Higher calling, to myself. I likened it to the homecoming most of us are familiar with, returning to our alma mater, perhaps a little fun at a tailgate, and reconnecting with familiar faces, energies, and places. In many ways, that is exactly what 2026 has called in. I’ve reconnected with friends and chosen family that I have missed dearly. I’ve had the pleasure of playing in many ways that reminded me that life is indeed worth living. While I didn’t travel down to my alma mater, I did return to one of my ancestral homes in a much different way this time around. What I never could have accounted for was what returning home to my body would require.
Shortly after my return from sabbatical, my body demanded support I couldn’t provide on my own. It is a rather humbling experience to feel like a stranger in your oldest home, your body. It is humbling to have to reacquaint yourself with the literal structures and systems that support you every day. It is humbling and, dare I say, embarrassing to admit that you haven’t taken the care you’ve needed and to be confronted with that reality rather abruptly. Just a short week after returning to my desk, I was also taking inventory in physical therapy of the structural support needed to come back home to myself. I was giving myself what it needed, but oh, did I underestimate just how much repair this home of mine required. Somewhere along my movement journey, I was diagnosed with ADHD—not news to me, but a huge sigh of relief nonetheless! After many years of suspicion, overcompensating, and self-advocacy, I finally had confirmation of what I always knew to be true—my brain works differently; it works beautifully, and I am well in my existence as is.
There is something deeply profound, complex, and unnerving about receiving a diagnosis that confirms what you know, particularly when you exist in certain bodies and at various intersections. For the sake of brevity, I will expound on THAT at another time. My combination ADHD diagnosis and treatment came six months before my thirty-third birthday. While other health needs took priority at the time, the most immediate connection I made regarding coming home was the accommodations I needed and what was available to me, given my actual needs. Upon deeper reflection, I know that I wouldn’t be able to do this work, my work, if this wasn’t my home. My mind works in the most beautiful, playful, mysterious ways—all reflected in my life, in my offerings. Only coming home to myself could reveal that truth. My body of work, my offerings to you, are proof positive.
Shortly after my beautiful brain diagnosis, a few distractions, and physical therapy sessions later, I noticed I hadn’t been eating as much as I should. A rather common experience among my Divas with Distractions, this time around felt much different. A few weeks later, my stomach couldn’t hold anything I offered, nor could it receive it if it tried. Over a month or so- a month of unintentional weight loss, brain fog, dehydration, multiple weekly doctor visits and referrals- I wish I could tell you definitively what was wrong medically. With more time and spaciousness to be with myself, it was clear, after years of holding my breath and ignoring the signals and messages my body tried to deliver, that drastic measures needed to be taken—whether I was ready to listen or not. So I did what I had begun in the summer: come home and take care.
It is quite amazing the ways in which our bodies, our first and last home, still manage to love and care for us after years of neglect and abandonment.
Eight months ago, when I agreed to a Homecoming year, I didn’t have the slightest idea what that meant for me. As the calendar year winds down, I am only just beginning to understand why this personal theme revealed itself to me when it did. Many friends will recall that this season I said my mind and body may be weak, but my Spirit is strong. I have felt that reflected in The Collective as well. The desire to take a deep breath in, reconstruct a home worth caring for, and invite those with the same good intention in for respite. Many of us have been holding our breath while simultaneously exhausting ourselves to the breaking point. Many of us have seen, heard, and felt enough to choose to live differently. To take a collective inhale and create space for that which fills us up in a nurturing way. To intentionally care for our home(s) and all who have and will occupy her.
At the peak of my health woes, I felt such disappointment in my inability to show up as usual. And yet, how I was showing up was never sustainable and could no longer support the work I am meant to do. Last season and now into autumn have been deeply humbling and expansive. Deep acceptance and the desire to tell my Truth have guided me back to the physical and digital page, renewed and inspired. Not by anything I’ve consumed, witnessed, or absorbed, but by looking at myself—taking notice of all the things that are much closer than they originally appeared, but with renewed awareness I can acknowledge have been here all along.
While I had to temporarily pause my physical therapy to tend to other house emergencies, I am back in my movement rhythms and reminded that the world does indeed continue moving on whether you can show up as usual or not. And yet, home is always available and accepting.
In this season, I am reminded that it is that deep to rest in order to receive. It is that deep to step away, take inventory of the systems and structures that support us, and ask whether we are in right relationship with what we want to receive.
We know that many are called, but few are chosen. For The Chosen, my hope for you and for me is to move forward with renewed purpose and vision. I hope we both find moments to hit the pause button, giving ourselves permission to slow down and ensure we are integrating the wisdom we gather along the way, finding grace to appreciate how we should show up in each season of our becoming, and attuning to sense and respond to our bodies’ signals. As I open myself to receive the medicine this season has to offer, I find deep comfort in knowing that my Offering to you will come from a home restored with reverence, love, and deep care.
Take good care, friends.
With Ease,
Lauren
