Venice Beach. When I was a college student in Long Beach, driving a half hour up to Venice Beach was one of my favorite things to do. I loved the freedom and quirkiness and color of this world. So when I visited Long Beach a few weeks ago, my friend Sheryl and I went because, we, like, had to (we also had to eat at our fave restaurant C&O Trattoria). But it was so weird, friends. I stilled loved Venice, but it made me sad, too. This time, I really felt the heaviness of a seemingly free city. I felt sad for many who are obviously tormented by mental illnesses. Sad for those so lost to drugs. Sad for the young, young and old folks who live on the streets and have been doing it so long they’ve lost all hope. There was anger and hatred on the strip and it was an overwhelming and unexpected thing that afternoon. It reminded me that I sometimes live in a bubble, bubble wrapped with my loving friends and family and my biggest worries are basically based on just having more. More money. More in my career. More home. More time to do Lauren stuff. Venice Beach, of all places, reminded me it’s not all about me. And that while I work hard, I need give back more. Not just with stuff and money. But with love and prayer and my thoughts.
WELCOME!I’m Lauren — a gentle wanderlust who lives in a little valley nestled between Sacramento and San Francisco. I embrace life’s littlest and most poignant moments, and share them here.
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