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Highlighting You, Photo by BradensEye featuring (an exceptional card received from her mother) with the heART of Lori Portka designs

Your free will sets the choices for the voices you prioritize. Figuring out who to believe can exhaust an atrocious number of our years if we’re not careful. The chance to get our lifetime grooving any direction we prefer often entails toning down the torrent of opinions bombarded about precociously. (Un)Stressing you involves tuning out the blues cues. And by ‘stressing’ in this case, I’m not referencing that after-effect of the extra tequila shots you slammed the night before your big presentation or the way your (now married) ex-lover’s text sits a tad saucy between your legs. We’ve got to…


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Proclamation, Photo by BradensEye, featuring Hoolawa Stream overpass stumble-upon from Twin Falls hike

Let’s be junkies for owning our epicness. Slaying sanctity of yourself is your core’s marquee message. Although, living’s got this tassel that operates more like a hassle in our way. We allow cumbersome curls of complication pretty f’ing often. In lieu of smartly processing any snarky repartee, we’re apt to give our cynicism too much carte blanche range. But, we should eternally make room for extra slices of humble pie. As creatures of crotchety habits, I’m forever seeking wins in the game of resurrection serenity. The voices may blather obstinate impurities, yet none of them are you meant to believe…


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Confection Affection, Photo by BradensEye featuring a handmade Tutu treat

Dig in to worship of all things loving. I’m a hyper proponent for celebrating the superpowers of love every day. I know we’ve just rubbed elbows with another Valentine’s day. To some of you, it might have merely been a Sunday, a typical weekender fun day, or a minor twitch of hours easily passed by. But, I kinda needed to shout about it a little bit more. Maybe, (ok, especially), because I lost about three and a half days cooped up indoors with the horizontal horror of a migraine. Inconveniently mixed with praying way too much to the porcelain gods…


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Oh My Darling!, Photo by BradensEye featuring a phallus

Thawing our commotion only asks for love. Whatever manic you’re ever attracting simply deserves devout arrows of affection instead. Herr Cupid’s rounding another corner. Where I’ll be basking in self-love another year, rather than dedicated sexy sharing. If you’ve lucked out on someone’s toasty toes in which to tangle with or you’re caught wrangling a last-minute gift consider those of us who are single. Your lottery is my motivation. It keeps me hungrily hopeful. However, don’t feel sorry for me. I’m rejoicing in a continued drama-free zone while dialing up the rom-com scenery for pleasuring myself. I may have missed…


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Toes-Up Mentality, Semi-Selfie

Coddling our core needs is crucial life juice. Spoiling ourselves gallops the gamut of reactionary conceptions. Others have quite a load they’ll tease to ridicule someone about who’s receiving anything they’re wanton to license for themselves or applying liberally as superfluous. Targeting your TLC creates ample leeway toward extinguishing those perennial to-do lists already predisposed to multiplying as it is. Moreover, I promise you that by providing for yourself in such sorts of spoonfed softness extravagance begets awesomely productive humanity. The greater accommodation that we introduce instead of excuses lands us at the intersection of relief. Honing one’s plumes of…


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NATUREly, Photo by BradensEye featuring her youthful plate art

One fit does not size all. Virtually, we all come out of a similar ‘box’. (Apologies to my feminine cohorts for the uncouth analogy to the female body.) Yet, whatever you think is the right, best, must, or essential thing, I’m here to confirm that’s cush coolio for you. Although, don’t go all plump ego expecting it to be so for me, nor anyone else. Chasms frankly lay all around. Regardless of how many privileges may or are prohibited to abound, there are some of us who are gonna fall outside the dotted lines. Please don’t get me wrong, though…


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Swinging in Self-Exploration, Photo by BradensEye featuring our exquisite Orion Healing Centre practice locale

What sticks makes us tick. Exactly one year ago today I launched a venturing through one of the most noteworthy experiences of my life. A two-week trauma-informed yoga teacher training against the backdrop of mouthwatering mango-sticky-rice and saltwater that matched my eyes land beginning a day after my big five-ohhh. Thirteen students that quickly became a dozen when our one male faced some difficult personal trauma triggers similar to a gateway drug gone badly causing him to miss too many classes to continue properly. Eight, including a leader bestie already nestled in position, whom remain superglue for me. Each creature…


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Seen, Photo by BradensEye featuring the most remarkable portrait of me ever by Max McManus

Be married with those who truly see you. The anatomy of a lifetime includes all sorts of interesting elements. You have items such as your ligaments of learning, then those orgasmic organs you purely dare not go without, and a jumble of joints of juncture that make your livelihood move along marvelously if you’re making sure they stay limber. There are gobs of humans, animals, or activities with which we can choose from to share our hours. So, it’s quite queer that we’re known for getting in ruts rotating some we egregiously don’t need. You know the ones: whom you…


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On the Edge of Greatness, Photo by BradensEye featuring her first (but not her last!) rendezvous with the infamous “Jaws”, traditionally spoken as “Ke Kai ‘o Waitakulu” (which means “The Teary Eye”) for Super Swell Saturday January 16, 2021

Bliss ain’t no joke. There’s a compelling swagger affiliated. When you’re around this level of delectation the entire planet spins with ease. Time appears to pause right in thin air. I feel the world stops to make darn tootin’ certain that I’m relishing each lick of her tick. Conquering takes on goliath thrust. The implications of our happiness radar tend to soar. Yet, for all sorts of lame, obscure, or adulting reasons we aren’t always so prompt to kindle an overwhelming portion of magical moments for our repertoire. It’s wildly not every hour that we’re right up against it. That…


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In Hot Pursuit, Photo by BradensEye featuring the in-process efforts of Yogarupa Rod Stryker

Orienting to observation is our nexus. However, this isn’t to merely encourage an outward-looking perch. It’s an urgent placement of actions ownership within the self. Surveillance scrutiny should flank both faces. This is insinuating your alertness for others responses to you. Yet, namely, referencing your awareness toward your own reactions with anything. The point of one’s presence will enduringly be debated. Although, alignment won’t ever matter if your ego’s stomping solo. Fundamentally-seeking ought to be our climax. Where cooing over our credits merits how woke we are to the wilderness begging you trod a unique trail. Striking connections is why…

BradensEye

LOVER of life. Especially people, places, philanthropy and photography.

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