Your Body Is a Wonderland, Photo by BradensEye from Intimate Archives

Pinnacle preparation involves being stoked enough to move. Pumping self and others is a specialty in time. Habitually we spend ludicrous amounts of time in our own way, even though others will thwart us too. We routinely stop ourselves before anyone else even has the chance to compete. It’s the gnawing thoughts or feelings that we need to be more ready than we’ve decided we are presently. We desire our most orgasmic mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual state to combat whatever bulges in our bearing. Yet, this monstrous prior planning might take decades, not to mention a lifetime. I’m here today in honor of redrafting in a crafty way the definition of sketchy to be more catchy. Drawing praise is as much an interior decoration as an exterior makeover.

We go in again for more, another dose until the lesson is etched in, wholly ingrained. We’ll circle tirelessly as famished vultures craning for a peck. As if the same version of scavenging will solidify a new result. We are attempting to intellectualize insanity. A popular phrase from my youth echoed from my mother’s lips frequently (and more incessantly during my teen years): “Child, you are a glutton for punishment!” Redirecting all the potency from “I told you so” minutes is able to eject us from lives of endless ineptitude. Instead of gaining pant sizes, we may solicit celebrations of honest adulation. Ask one to five people you trust to share their sincere complimentary impressions of you. Jot these nuggets down! Now, take a moment to write about how these thoughts roll an uplift with you if so. Creative representation exercises offer to connect us more deeply with ourselves.

Stealing the lightning from any thunderous roar our inner critic is trying to mandate as a headline about our personal show is a cardinal rule of pristine praiseworthiness. I’ll bet you’ve experienced some inferiority lack. Maybe it’s been too often lately. Consider that this devaluing lurks around as many corners as there are Starbucks. Don’t you want to be a part of the revolution solution? Expressive ovations are the means to ending at least individual wars. Hanging with my middle school bestie, while enjoying a relapse to our past, I encountered this brilliant meritorious throwback illustration I’d outlined to encourage her through the college application process. While my affection for her may not have won her the university or the life of her choice, the fact that she made a keepsake of my lovable homage has stood the test of time for our friendship. She was and remains nothing shy of Wonder Woman in an array of superheroic ways to me.

I say YOU MUST! Here’s one of my best life lessons of advice: When we’re pulled, tugged, called, interested, even slightly tickled to do something we think will make us happy we really should try. The reasoning is simplistic. Technically it doesn’t matter the outcome. There is profuse insight when learning and abundantly intelligent gifts possible in everything we do. Especially when these are things that have already gotten our attention. So, regardless of nerves, competition, expertise, or any pesky roadblocks of mind, mood, voices from others or our own, we deserve to give chance the reigns. One tiny change might land you a direct path, a greater path, a new path, a different path with original connections, friends, mentors, advice, energy, ideas, songs to live, and places to go… in the least, ah-ha! I hope you get the notion of this motion. Understanding the gift of glorified praising is how we raise the roof on reputable fame.

In order to know how right we are, we ought to uncover the wrongs. A creative writing workshop helped me flush out the antidote to my inner critical venom. Tasked with a short three minutes of quickly depicting the look of that rude villain of too many words, I found myself staring at a cartoonish bodiless head. Instructed to name this entity as well, I saw for the first time what made crazy sense: my ‘Sheen Stealer’ was half man (the art professor who gave me a D grade) and half woman (my high school English teacher that publicly loathed me for some unknown reason). Now comical, I was able to project an innocence unto this bloodthirsty beast. Maybe the only thing my inner cavewoman knew was survival. With nothing but protection in mind, all the negative carrying on was a backhanded means of trying to support me. Once I shucked any dependence on unfavorable things, I could freely lasso laudation. Get your blessing machine in gear and see how many smiles you can make in a day.

Let “You rock” become your rock of all ages!

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

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