The Outlook Is Promising, Photo by BradensEye on the arrival of my personal pandemic fairy @lovethatlink

Weaving a novel way of passing minutes welcomes artistry. I’ve been encouraged every single day about how to break any cycle of plodding through our current infectious distancing days. Honestly, I’m beholding oodles of fabulousness pouring through my eyes and ears constantly. Every inch settling a pardoning of my fears with the overflow of options that deter my anxiety with their fantasmic (a freshly laid word I made-up to cover the combo of “fantastic” + “seismic”) traits. In some keen ways, it’s as if we’ve been given a semi-clean slate (not to be confused with unclean states ~ sorry for the bad joke!) to help wipe the sting of global life-threatening viral overtaking extremes. Most of us are facing a calling for channeling into actuality many items from those lists you’ve yet to tackle. Restrictions relief comes in copious forms from ticking those accomplishment boxes to trying the unprecedented. Salute empowerment as your new best friend. Being so attuned personally is akin to tuning those guitar strings before picking or similarly tinkering the piano keys melodiously.

Time is a created thing. To say ‘I don’t have time,’ is like saying, ‘I don’t want to.’ ~Lao Tzu

We don’t get to opt out of pandemic pandemonium in this case. We have to deal. The goal is crafting duality with the duel. Arming the harm with some charm. Dancing right in step with this devil, I’ve noticed a subtle layer of irony. A lot of us complain about not having the time for ourselves that we want. Well, ‘Be careful what you wish for’, they’ve always said. Henceforth, I’ve been wondering how many people are swallowing a taste of their own wished-for medicine with ease? We often dramatize what we’d do with an extra day or time for ourselves. In that thinking, I doubt any of us could have concocted this weird soup of giving the planet en masse the chance to practice just such a thing. Albeit irregular, here we’re thrown into partaking a piece of the age-old kept woman syndrome modern-day at play. We’re fending for our rights to remain far from insanity and happily with whatever literal interior we’ve got presently for safety. Looking out for ourselves is committing to inside out good behavior ~ letting our insights of self become outward frolic for our seclusion siesta.

The 90-second rule was skillfully woven into the beautiful somatic Chair Yoga for Kapuna free/donations online yoga class for day two of my self-isolation after returning from overseas. Scientific evidence has proven it merely takes a minute and a half for our bodies to process what’s happening to us in any given moment. Think frightened listening of our scourge reporting to joyful elation from the climax of an orgasm or a tasty morsel. We have quite a few selves that make us wholly who we are entirely. Patterning the grasshopper is a locust is a grasshopper shifting, we’re each subject to a range of varied currents of our sensing. The fierce aspect of a warrior is how I’ve learned its reach yondering the yoga posing communion. Although the gladiator in performing healthy exercise is worthy, the deeper hero recognizes their core identify attachment in order to keep developing a strength of secure engagement. While I’d forgotten to request any routine props within my reclusive retreat, I was so pleased to be doing the activity that alternate to grumpiness was my smile laying a beach towel as my mat and my sweatshirt easily became a strap for stretching. The point nestles in the paradox of choosing.

This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine. ~
Harry Dixon Loes, This Little Light of Mine (ft. Greater Works)

Somebody cued the quarantine fairies and one visited me yesterday! Yes, indeedy, you read that correctly. Unbeknownst to me, saints aren’t reserved for those praying for Italy. Maybe, like me, you’ve needed some time to cry or binge on Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. So much so that glee mega-trumps all the world’s gluten-free when a bubbly bestie personality waltzes outside your doorstep to privately deliver a mammoth custom-made care package bursting at the seams for your consumption only (jesting it’s solely you anyway, but it feels special noting it that way). Therefore, what’s it gonna be, my dearest friendlies navigating the same emotional tsunami? Shall you keep a dreadful stance regarding your fate or balk the lemming mentality to replace it with some jocular dates. Take the hilariously F*UCKing calming adult coloring book combined with its equally radiant Dirty Word Search Book conveniently stuffed between naughty to nice treats in my Christmas-came-early separation giftee. Your potential has skyrocketed with the shape of detention, sans legal prisoning.

Whatever your constraints, I promise there’s someone somewhere who’s got a splash of solution to douse any poisonous persistence. No matter if you’re soloing this same as moi or twitching the nerves of your companion(s), there’s savoring with yourself to be contemplated. Overall, naked gaming has s scorecard to keep with my aforementioned debaucherous donations exploration. Several specific favs seem to be long-standing crazes: intimate wine pairings to pancake partying. To which I’ll add the ideas for a pillow-fort viral contest, attempting inverted chewing gum bubbles that fill your mouth inwardly (I know, I know, therapy is good for me), or any type of hair challenge from growing or cutting to coloring and plucking. As well and ripe from my government-mandated abrupt travel departure from the land of koalas, my self-recommended Triple J dance-offs for zesty music buffs. In the blood-is-still-pumping full veins bright side of Murphy’s Law reasoning, I do declare that everything that goes down must come up. So there! Caring is not scaring, so let’s idolize valuable sharing.

May you stop storing discomfort in exchange for clever remedies.

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

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