Unchaperoned Sensitivities
Life has become a bit too shaken not stirred. Many of us feel we’re losing our favorite flavors. They’re being stripped away by protocols of safety meets societal-wrangling chaos. Each morning of late we’re faced with global mourning. Browsing our sensations is a far cry from the arousing aspects typical to the internet version. Central within all of this vibrational to literal wailing are affluent pockets of lunacy, but also glimmers of hope. Instead of purely piling puddles of runaway emotions unto the scene, this babe wishes to set a new scorecard record into straight-ahead motion. Our unchaperoned sensitivities signal a new collective coming of age. I fancy we all live for treats. So, I want to make a stand for everyone, anywhere, bearing in mind that treating one another with appreciation as tasty as your planned first lick of ice cream after it’s been denied indefinitely.
This is the type of day where the trees and fire hydrants fight over dogs. ~What the Forecast
Assuming it’s best we befriend this stagnation, I think we oughta aim for dog days pace. Life has enough energy to keep most of us overheated much of the time. We’re discarded in a breakup, picking up the pieces of a stolen income stream, or missing constructive time snogging for the sake of some list of personal demands. Add the bloodthirsty pandemic, your country’s politics (ahem, USA, I’m sorely looking at you), or rewriting your definition of the meaning of work and our flames just burst into Dante’s Inferno with a side of exothermic reactions on crack! Trying to keep our cool seems as possible as a successful ice bucket challenge during (appropriately named) Death Valley’s dead of summer amidst all of our fluctuating trends of widespread crisis reboot versus revisiting the same old stories unable to welcome change. However, let our hiatus be your lover.
Sinking softly with hypersensitivity is relative to the conditionality of your gratitude altitude. Notice, I did not use the word “attitude”, which I’ve invisibly implied. The loftiness of one’s gratefulness assumes you have something, at least one microscopic thing, for which you can be thankful. Maybe you eat off the land, have running water to your heart’s content you can afford, or you’re widely known as an exemplary heavy-weight hugger. Allow your aspirations to manifest with more personally purposeful lineups. If you’re crushing this about as uniformly as me, every dawn discos a new dance to enliven the triggering hurricane called yesterday. Never in my life did I think what happened already would need to be cleaned so often. I have to share a surplus of nice for myself. Then, I seek to be kind to all. Escorting our moods carefully with cures of empathetic intention is the idea.
It’s my own design
It’s my own remorse
Help me to decide
Help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure ~Tears for Fears, Everybody Wants to Rule the World
Unmanned expression of our cells can lead to explosive performances in a melting manner. As in your dessert spilled on the sweltering pavement so you can’t even scoop it up to save it sort of way. Ergo, a model for salvaging the sweetness from our over-active poignancy is paramount. Bridging the pain with recognition for the basics to the beauty of you is a bountiful bolster. Tell perturbed to take a hike. Glow some Earthly kudos for making it through another twirl concerning the sun and stars. Healthy asks us to release judgments of who we were being yesterday, five months ago, last year, even five minutes ago. Supposing we gift ourselves the goods of deciding to indulge on deliciously integrous-as-f*ck behavior with a bonus topping of respect for self and then some while sprinkling round a pretty slew of well-groomed love embodiment bombs.
Overall, handling the process of our subtleties resembles the jovial rejoicing found in watching anyone light their first sparklers. The community, locally to at-large, may mutually unite to spare us the burden of the saboteur-soul syndrome. As creatures of immense propensity, we endeavor to hunt habits of repetition. Yet, invariably, there are furtive agonizing bottoms we thought were tops that we get trapped between. Amassing a bouquet of awareness plummets our discomfort to move in amenities of service. Adorned with the reflection of protection, credence with our spirited identify and populous gathers ethical alignment. Mutual agreements of support are where we evolve toward shepherding those senses of contentedness that belong with us innately as humans worthy of being happy. I’m all for turning tempests into tendencies for ceaseless shine.
May the guardian of your heart impress with blessings far beyond your individual sphere.
