Righting Our Wrongs, Photo by BradensEye on an AZ Hotel McCoy artist bend featuring @rebelheartpoetry

Aligning with our diversions is a pivotal quest. It’s a precious slant to see that we may evaluate any slice of the present with a doctrine laced in profit. Processing perpetual positivity from whatever our standpoint is a noble choice. Our proficiency for optimistic observance is upright preaching worth adopting. We live in a world packed full of lapses, pitfalls, and absolute bad luck. It’s the majority’s daily hassle to find oneself stuck in a traffic jam delaying any arrival to a destination we thought we’d mapped good timing. Applying a canon that such junctures are usefully a vehicle for pressing your psyche to measure a healthier touchstone is notable. By hugging our detours we’re appraising our etiquette with excellent esteem. To gauge one’s digression with a demeanor of gainfulness promotes the flexibility needed to tackle all jumbo to miniature wackiness thorns in our way.

The really happy person is the one who can enjoy the scenery, even when they have to take a detour. ~Sir James Hopwood Jeans

I’m not sure the last time any of you had an entire twenty-four hour period go exactly as you wish, but most of mine are few and far between. Willy-nilly, I feel like a bumbling youngin stepping on all the cracks in the sidewalk, unable to form any semblance of a consistently bubbly balance. For every levitation, it has seemed a bigger beast of “gotcha” was just waiting in the wings to pounce. This was no lazy lion, either. The disruptive ‘pickles’ weren’t those tasty kinds that come from Mother Nature growing things. These were a cockeyed clump of baby to broad-shouldered meddlers of my peaceful atmospheric pressure. Often as benign as one minute I’d be plucking fresh flowers to adorn my hair, saving the same for a few friendly others, and my space. Next, it would be as if I’d unleashed the mosquito lords battle cry only to be left swatting myself senseless.

Intimate-principling my way through the swooping coaster-ride thoughts of my mind, I don’t think we should be looking at this year or any instant so differently than others. Muddling through the minutia of any customer service calls, whether the melanoma monster visiting me or a more lucid pizza takeout ring, can quickly turn mentally violent. A guru might pontificate: Move or move faster. What a transmission as sea change unto itself! Being that we are having to be. Just that. As is. With any of it all. (You get it, right?!) One can’t help but move, as moving is part of existing. However, if your living is foiling your happiness, perhaps adding some swiftness to the rate of your movements could land you a gait of improvement. When we’re thrust into downfall or vote to hastily veer in an entirely unused direction we’re able to (re)claim any innate wisdom.

You could blame it on the circumstance or blame it on your youth

All your life, you’re searching on

And onе day you’ll be thinkin’ how you ever got this far ~
Blame My Youth, Right Where You Belong

Why we transfer tragedies to jubilation is our loyal faith in a grateful purpose. Royally articulated, the perks of containing a sanguine makeup provide maximum pleasant immunity. Mitigating our moments of mayhem is a bypass along everyone’s path. Choosing the high road isn’t laid out as smooth pavement for every trajectory. Consider that a crappy curve is creatively a line hoping you’ll straighten it out for ease. There will always be positive things from poor proceedings. It’s a matter of mindfully snuggling the disarray. Much of our human aptitude is about identifying any discord in due time to be able to transcend our cognitive dissonance into a presentation of comforting service. Our injustices are our ministry of justice. Otherwise known as the places from where we may adjust our functions of ultra favorable faith in ourselves. Your satisfaction is an eternal emergency.

I just finished listening to the audiobook version of Bryan Stevenson’s beautifully narrated Just Mercy. The story’s anecdote that took my breath away was a reference to a gruff Prison Guard’s dealing with him as an attorney in relation to a mentally unstable man he was representing. An epihanal twist occurred after the Guard had sat in listening to Mr. Stevenson’s presentation of the case inscribing a horrid history of the convict in the foster care system. The accused had been requesting a chocolate milkshake for a long time. The prison repeatedly denied his lawyer being able to make him happy fulfilling this simple order. It turned out that the Guard experienced a similar emotionally neglectful upbringing. It caused the Guard to take the prisoner to Wendy’s fast-food to treat him the last time he’d transported him! Evil has zero boundaries. All the while compassion is limitless. Let’s love your latter.

Disturbances in our force are merely asking us to determine opportunities.

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

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