Life moves pretty fast for a dog, especially since we trade seven years for one. Which is why we stop and sniff the flowers that appear between hydrants and giants. So, while masters glue to computers their glazed eyes, we remain in meatspace, pawing for a woof-worthy prize. Our noses are like lodestones—drawing attention of Mother’s finests finds. And, we are never out-seeking to around-carry a charming chelidonius; we just want experiences—whether fragrant or feastful or fancy—that leave our lives more harmonious. When life is shorter, attention must be given to making it so much sweeter. Hence, the purpose in pursuing post-pandiculation paths which produce passionate pants prior to pull for play from pillow as pleader. ; )
Obstreperous honks beyond bridge’s other side—they mute the desired splashes playing percussively around below’s city pool.
Doubts nab optimism under the query: Which is progress’s journey? From here to there or from there to here?
Pursuit of joyful contentment remains a hydra, with steel passages carrying concerns over impediments—only to have turned head reflect for a yearn to return.
Will is the only demonifuge to fear’s festering and every direction is forward if outlooks are open to new spins.
Whether put-staying or new-stepping, no certainty can say if chosen place is meant. Benefits exist in both honk-free and honks free, so try the thrills of one hill for a bit and if it turns tiresome, reroute right what was left. And, as well, always rent. ; )
Do one thing every day that scares you—like walking away from a foofaraw without caring whether or not the other party will ever understand or heed your point of view.
Do one thing every day that scares you—like fostering the ends’ benefits of backyard myrmecochory even when the means pass through your kitchen.
Do one thing every day that scares you—like standing firmly against—instead of, from them, running away—those who discomfit your pursuit of serenity.
Do one thing every day that scares you—like lovingly forgiving—instead of dismissively kicking—yourself for unintended engagement in foolery.
Do one thing every day that scares you—like reading a book.
Do one thing every day that scares you—like walking around outside.
Do one thing every day that scares you—like turning doubt into confidence by action—even while accepting its fear.
Do one thing every day that scares you—like living. : )
Some twigs snap warnings.
Especially when minatory monsters sneak.
Some sticks sprout buds.
Whose slight scents swing around ground’s geosmin.
Some splints consider themselves a degringolade.
From the might and strength of both trunk and root.
Some stems see their souls as trivial.
But, they feel substantial when lucidas bloom from their growthful state. ; )
Sunshine in a bottle: in case one is not so connatural with warmthful cheeriness.
Flora fragrance: sociological spritzes for nincompoopania’s arid air.
An essence of freshness: ensures propinquity endures.
Daisy’s misty: eyes gaze at gallant Gatsby’s generous gestures. ; )