90. You Have To Be Ready To Cry Unexpectedly Over Small Things 😢
WELCOME NEW FRIENDS! It’s so good to have you here. 💛
Bonjour friends, it’s the weekend.
Here’s five things you may find interesting and/or meaningful.
1. Watching 🦁
Live webcam of Tau Waterhole in Madikwe Game Reserve, South Africa.
2. The Good Life 🧖🏽♀️
This floating sauna in the middle of Lake Geneva as a 2022 must-see.
3. Reading 📰
“Instead of aiming for “less sad” or “less grumpy” or “less angry,” sometimes it feels better to aim for exuberance. I know that sounds like fake candy-covered optimism at first, but suspend your disbelief for a second. Because if you’ve ever struggled to feel motivated, get out of bed, and locate your passion, you’ve probably also sometimes fallen into the habit of setting your sights too low. You start to see each day as a series of people, places, and things to avoid.
EXUBERANCE is vulnerability and wild hopes and boisterousness and longing. Exuberance isn’t following one strict road map forward, chiding yourself every second of the day for not doing it right. Exuberance is waking up in the morning and saying, “I’ll try new things. I’ll be good to myself. I’ll listen to my needs. I’ll reach out and make real connections with the people I trust.” Exuberance is honesty and willingness. You don’t have to be better to be exuberant. You don’t have to be successful or even solvent to be exuberant.
You just have to be playful. You have to be open. You have to be ready to cry unexpectedly over small things. You have to be willing to learn. You have to be willing to listen. You have to welcome new music, seek out art, take suggestions, explore new places, welcome hassles, even when at first it sounds taxing. Exuberance is about experimenting. Exuberance accepts that you need a lot to be happy.”
4. A Poem ❤️🔥
My Work Is Loving The World — Mary Oliver
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird -
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young and still not half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all ingredients are here,
Which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.
5. Petit Apartment 🏠
See you next Sunday.
PS: