Putting hacks into the fractures of your life is crucial for cruising most easily. Buried in the bumps that cause us grief are the humps of growth helping to nudge us along a pathway of progress, ease, humor, or maybe even the Elysium of nirvana. If only we’d pay closer attention to the inquiries of intrusiveness to snooping amongst our individual memoirs unfolding. Our personal silos continue to be challenged in these terminal times archiving our survival a bit too much on the interior for the predominant public to be hailing. Yet, what I’m hoping to convince you is how you’re merely omitting the bemusement of an entirely other arrangement. Why, a single unused day is quickly filled with all the random things proving to me that curiosity cures the cracks in our existence. The spotlight of this spirit is exceptional concentration. Where you’re allowing your examination to wear new shades.
We usually get what we anticipate. ~Claude M. Bristol
Spectacles are the lenses that color our demeanor and provide us clarity. But, when you refuse to preserve whatever assured vision is available you’re likely robbing yourself inordinately. I’ve let myself be lobbed into some pretty rad, while hairy, situations throughout my career to intimate livelihood. Dangle a foreign country carrot in front of me and I prove that puppy dog at your feet that simply won’t stop begging. Regardless of my reason for trekking, I’ve got gripes that would mortify any heroine prima donna’s claim to fame (not that you know any). Instead, amidst the premises of meltdowns to mistakes, I look for the chrysalis clefts. Those little larvae that may translate bad to good, altering a downturn into a spectacular version reality; scant moments before a deranged production, alienation, or highfalutin idiocy. In the carnival of life’s miracle, we’re actually given innumerable opportunities to engage positively.
Royal wonderment is your endless gymnasium of play. Unbounded persuasion is the basis of this consumption. Lately, I’ve taken to stretching the spaces from the door frame to the clock face. I’ve been trying to repair the trash can lid interface since the metal screw went astray. I carefully use a pocket knife jammed in the broken toaster slot to keep my bread toasting. I’ve tested sleeping diagonally and exercising my bendy body in the porch breeze. I’m scrutinizing a call to add a homemade fresh-plucked fruit icing glaze to the local baby banana and pecans I want to toss into the gluten-free dark chocolate chip cookies I intend to bake. One of my leading leisures has become the design of my twilight. A couple of hours I’ll name my ‘darling dialing’ duration. The span wherein I’m fully entrenched accepting preselected phone dating connections. I love to believe that missing any such things would render me an explicitly boring person.
Our fissures appear to be parading their flailing all over places recently. Although, history tells me this is ancient news. The expounding analysis is we’ve formerly torn the environment apart, suffered widespread infection, ended relationships to marriages, lost jobs to fertile wages, and all of our marbles. I know you’ve got rifts because I have them too. I understand there are chasms in your contracts or slams at your door. In exchange for all the thwacking, you’re prone to want me to explore, let’s settle in for those podcasts galore. I’ll happily fork over weeks of my energy to hear your productivity over your roar. Whether it’s the innocence of fortune from listening thoroughly during a conversation or the taste of umpteen concoctions you’ll share that you cooked, I’m cunningly honing each of the meaningful mentions you’ve not so secretly foretold. Abandon your own rejection to enjoy the option to apply your all.
Barring any ounce of diminishing this isolation craze, I think we only get so many second chances. I suspect our sentencing matches our sainthood. In fact, we’re so flipping into ourselves we’ve neglected steady swag in the vitality crannies. As society avoids protecting and sticks to splitting, I’ll maintain my commitment to my exotic Aquarian Age ambitions. If ever, it’s the epoch for us to make a stance for better selves. When the world’s upside down I don’t search for frowning. If anything, my interests peak. I don’t witness one lemon life delivers as my universe souring. And I fantasize far beyond lemonade. I suppose guerrilla gardening groves from which anyone can take. There’s lemon ice cream, meringues, scented pillowcases to shoe insoles, or doggie treats. Probing the reaches of more than our own brain. We leave all the practical room for ‘possible’, ceasing the impossible, as we conjure the phenomena of openness.
May what you see compare benevolently to how you react.