Indulging in Sexy Street Feline Lovin’, Photo by BradensEye

A spoonful of indulgence helps the medicine go down. It seems savagely satiating to indulge. I’m all for a bit of pampering when I’ve been kicked low or after I’ve been kicking butt at getting life stuff right. There are luxury lulls where squandering an afternoon with no agenda but fun or relaxation do make it onto my docket. I’m a blessed babe. Where I think I can afford some peace of mind emanates not from all this that I have but rather from why I know my way around the discrepancy between indulgences and overindulgences.

Our triggers are often attached to our pocketbooks and poor vices. Excess appears dressed in embellishment. We’re tackling victim as if it’s a life preserver. You’re lacking income and that entire pint of ice cream becomes your appetizer. You got dumped and that trip to Tahiti you can’t afford popped up in your internet feed a half hour later, so you said: “Screw it, I’m going!” You really don’t need another _____ (fill in the blank: dress, car, artwork, marriage). You ‘need’ that ‘blank’ as much as ‘a hole in the head’, such my family has been fond of quipping.

We’re indulging more. I want to be happy for us, but it’s not all big-hearted. Blame it on this time of year. Store shelves and racks become crowded with even more options than usual. However, it’s not simply a seasonal quirk. Point your everyday fingers jarringly at all that surrounds shouting at you to greedily indulge. All of this might equally mark a state of being clouded. Maybe you’re missing something. And I don’t meant what else you could gather to beef up your existing overflow. Landfills remain bursting at the seams and still, no one has solved the plastics, water, poverty, or homeless crises. Perhaps your spare couch or bedroom would be a warm welcome for a homeless person, family in need (yours or another), or any stray animal.

I struggle with our global homeless issues. Many of their eyes, rare smiles, and some handshakes or high-fives from car windows or street walks I’ve given, along with dollar bills, change, and as much peace or love as possible. Gobs more times I’ve averted those eyes and the pleading or disjointed signs (literal and figurative) Rushing in traffic, occasionally feeling unsafe, or unsure of my life status which keeps me guarding even pennies, I ignore their plight. Los Angeles instituted incentives to landlords willing to help the homeless crisis. I long to scoop up every stray cat and dog clogging the tourist engorged cobblestone or dusty streets and alleys of foreign countries, all the while same in nearly any dumpster area crevice of my homeland America.

Funny enough, I’ve been without my own home for many years. It started with me down on my luck. It’s transitioned to a lifestyle of traveling I deeply love. It’s taken the powerful turn to create a wealth of appreciation in my mind. So many people have turned over their spaces to me in times of need. I’ve more than sufficiently made my rounds in house and pet sitting that I adore as both trade, compensation, and pure love for animals or those living in varied spaces. For similar reasons, I make a habit of tipping or in some way treating housekeeping staff in places where I stay. During our recent Thanksgiving, I observed an endearing note from the hotel personnel to my dad thanking him for the generous tip. All this has taught me the profuse revenue of a proper indulgence. Tender is the extravagance when we serve more than ourselves.

This is not entirely a sexy story (that part will come soon enough). Unless, of course, you find gross excess knocks your socks off in the equivalent of The Wolf of Wall Street highlight party repetition of debauchery where money, drugs, and humans are exceedingly thrown away as easily as we flush toilet tissue down the drain (low light behavior by my standards). I keep wanting to pick apart what moves anyone to bother with what’s outside of themselves for the sake of choosing (the more inviting sounding) superego over pure id-based ego. I’m eternally seeking a culture of caring. Businesses are actually known to thrive when putting others first. Here is a case of indulging in others for the value of personal and professional transformation. Put something exterior to you before your best, or self-serving, interests. This is where sexy becomes sophisticated — altruism.

I’ve been the captain of exorbitance. I can fully own the nature of proficiently doing laps in a giant pool of spoiled. None of my implications outlined prior are directed at giving things over completely one-hundred percent of the time. Being ignorant to a need to safety, trust, business competition, and expertise from others, or giving up what you have merely to promote someone else doing exactly what you want just as much, if not more, isn’t a finite win. I’m a rational soul who understands at best two, or a possible few of you, could read this and be inspired. My beat is about tearing down the walls of survival mode.

Building a community of compassion is realistic. I vote we stop ignoring all that is, and who are, needy. How might it feel if we indulge in support all of the time? I promise money thrives on this theory too. If you’re skeptical, tap into this article. If you’re so serious you find you’re praying to a God you may not fully believe in and you don’t even have a rope to be your last bit to hold to, though you really mean you want the epically most positive joy-filled life without suffering packed with the punch of selfless legacy material then connect with this Tony Robbins and Russell Brand mentorship miracle. Everything starts and ends with you. It always has. We know that. We opt to forget it. Ad infinitum. First, you must give way more than two f@#ks about yourself. Then, you must act.

Guarantee Santa’s got you in his good favor and do something nice externally… Sexy is as sexy does for others.

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

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