On Why I Chose Theatre

I was recently asked the question, “Why did you decide to major in theatre?”

I paused.

“How do I put this without sounding lame or, worse, like I have no life direction?”  I thought to myself.

The story of how I became a theatre major is a bit of a long one.

For those of you who don’t know me well, you may be surprised to learn that I didn’t start out as a theatre major. No sir, I was going to be practical and pursue a degree in public relations, despite my love of acting. PR sounded fun, and hey,  I’m sure I could do a show here or there if I had free time.

It took exactly three months for me to realize that I really didn’t belong in the PR world.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know what other options were to be had. All I knew was that I loved people and loved telling stories. 

And then one day in my Intro to Human Communication course, an upperclassman theatre major, who later became one of my best friends, and the then artistic director for the IWU Theatre Department came to discuss theatre as a major.

I was in awe of what they had to say.

It was like they had crawled inside my head, took the aspirations of a five year old who loved to perform, combined them with a nineteen year old’s yearning to somehow impact people, and  made a lesson plan out of all that information.

And it didn’t sound stupid, or immature, or impractical.

It sounded awesome.

It sounded so awesome, I’m pretty sure I had a huge, ridiculous grin on my face the entire time.

And I swear I heard a very small voice, that was not my own, say, “Do it.”

 I’d like to say that I marched over to the registrar’s office that same day and changed my major.

 But then this story would be over far too soon.

So I waffled a bit, thought over pros and cons, and finally came up with a plan, albeit a lame one. 

I’d audition for the musical in a few weeks time, and if I got a role (it didn’t matter how small) I’d start considering switching majors.

I’m pretty sure you can guess what happened.

Fast forward nearly four years later, to the girl currently writing this post, who is asked very frequently what she wants to do with her life.

There are so many things I’d like to do.

I want to inspire, excite, and yes, make people cry.

I want some little girl or boy to look at my performance one day and think to themselves,

 “I want to do what she’s doing; I want to be on a stage like that.”

But really, I just want to tell stories; I want to paint a picture of someone else’s life.

That’s why I majored in theatre.

On Having Potential

I noticed that most of my posts have been kind of on the serious side. I promise there will be a very light-hearted post in the very near future, but for now, enjoy! 
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One of my very best friends said something very profound whilst a group of us were sitting around a table drinking tea and coffee on one of the last days of the spring semester. 

"You know, we all have the potential to do great things in our field of study." 

And as I looked around the table at some of the most important people in my life, I realized just how right she was.

 There's the future psychologist who is passionate about  global justice and counseling, who refuses to let anything keep her from becoming president of a nationally accredited psychology club, presenting original research at a research convention, and just generally kicking butt. 

 The theatre major, who was so passionate about a monodrama that she had read in a scriptwriting class, that she stopped at nothing to realize her dream of performing that monologue for students at our school, despite the ridiculous hoops she and her director had to jump through. 

The cellist who took a semester off because she knew she needed to find a music conservatory that could meet her needs and help her grow and  who has since been accepted into some of the top programs in the country. 

 The nurse. A quiet, sweet, wonderful man who loves to care for people, is a fantastic listener, and who loves the cellist with every ounce of his being (seriously people, they're adorably sickening). 

And then there's me.
I am a senior in college.
I have no clue what I am supposed to do after they hand me my diploma next spring.
And I am totally ok with that.
Why?
Because I have potential. 

On Saying Goodbye

I’m not one to make a big fuss when saying goodbye.

It’s not that I don’t care that someone’s leaving.  I don’t love them any less because they’re gone and I want to stay in touch; I just don’t let myself get too caught up in the drama of last hugs, dashing away tears lest my mascara run, and all the falderal that generally goes into goodbyes at the end of the school year.

That changed when I had to say goodbye to one of the best friends I have ever had (shameless plug: she blogs here).

I’ve been through a lot with this girl: plays, musicals, ridiculous communications courses, spring break trips, Shakespeare, voice lessons, heartaches, deadlines, final exams. You name it, we’ve been through it. And it’s funny, I didn’t think that saying goodbye was going to be all that terrible. I figured it’d be like any other goodbye, just a quick hug, a peck on the cheek, and we’d go our separate ways and work out times to hang out during holidays or call each other when we had a spare moment.

But then came closing night of our last  production of the season. Our theatre guild has a tradition that after we strike a set, we all gather in a circle, sing The Doxology, and then the seniors all form a smaller circle in the middle, while members of the other classes pray over them. I was already mourning the fact that I wouldn’t get to spend every waking moment with my amazing cast mates; I suppose the emotional high of finishing a show and going right into striking the set didn’t help either, but as I stood with my arms wrapped around my friends, my throat began to hurt, my nose to run, and my eyes started watering. As the last prayer ended, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I dissolved into a puddle. It was bad. Nose running, big gulping sobs, bad. And my precious, dearest, most wonderful friend cried with me.

Newsflash:  we’re ugly criers. 

But I realized, that this is not the end. Sure, it’s the end of a chapter, but not the end of an amazing friendship. True friendship means transitioning together into new phases in life, which can lead to some pretty grand adventures. J

So here’s to saying goodbye, to adventuring, and to ugly crying. 

On Being Thankful

Thankfulness.

For such a simple word, it packs quite a punch.

During the holidays, there’s this fad on social media sites of counting down the days to Thanksgiving by listing a new thing or person that you’re thankful for each day. Personally, I’m not a huge fan of posting such personal stuff on the internet, but it's made me stop and think about how really UN-thankful I’ve been over the past semester. 

As a student of theatre and communications, I divide my time between shows and school, which is the equivalent of working a part-time job and a full-time job at the same time. Despite my best intentions, I often let small things, like devotions and just talking to God throughout the week, slide. This all makes for a very sleepy, very cranky, very un-thankful Lauren.

And yet God, who somehow understands that I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of term papers and final projects, is still reminding me every day of all the things that I have, of all the people who love me, of the opportunities I am being given, and that He still loves me more than anything else in this world.

And there are no words for how humbling that is.