My most recent beach visit was more social than spiritual. It was a great time with my friend Cheryl, who is more like a sane older sister, than a friend off the street. She gives a lot of good life advice that I never listen to, until it’s too late or I’m about to repeat the same offense for the 2nd or 3rd time. What can I say? I’m stubborn. We visited one of Milford, Connecticut’s beaches. I won’t lie, it wasn’t beautiful, but it was still enjoyable and serene. We found a very peaceful spot between a family of 4 including a screaming toddler, family of 3 and a couple.
Life's a Beach
My most recent beach visit was more social than spiritual. It was a great time with my friend Cheryl, who is more like a sane older sister, than a friend off the street. She gives a lot of good life advice that I never listen to, until it’s too late or I’m about to repeat the same offense for the 2nd or 3rd time. What can I say? I’m stubborn. We visited one of Milford, Connecticut’s beaches. I won’t lie, it wasn’t beautiful, but it was still enjoyable and serene. We found a very peaceful spot between a family of 4 including a screaming toddler, family of 3 and a couple.
On Sundays We Brunch
Spring breeze, crisp sun, pollen hazed skies, and trees in full bloom—perfect day for an allergy attack and Sunday brunch. Sundays are the epitome of brunch, originated by Guy Beringer whose muse was the hangover. He felt Sundays were the best day to nurse your hangover back to sobriety, from the night before [www.mentalfloss.com]. Now, I’m not condoning hangovers or excessive drinking, but the concept of a late breakfast/lunch, happens to be a great idea that has taken over society throughout the years. Turning your day into bottomless mimosas and food comas that lead to building stronger interpersonal relationships is a brilliant way to connect with others. The mimosa was created by a bartender at the Ritz Carlton in Paris, being the bourgie or rather, uppity and pretentious part of brunch—combining champagne and fruit juice in a flute glass, where you must pooch your lips to drink from the glass; this happens to be my favorite part of brunch. Talk about ostentatious.
More Life. More Everything.
Vero Beach, FL Photo Cred: Lindsey Wuest |
While snapping photos of waves crashing into my friend, her arms up, as if she were on a roller-coaster, both of us laughing hysterically like school girls on a playground—“more life” flooded into my mind. It got me thinking to not just experience more life, but to experience more everything. The combination of warm water and the cool breeze made it a perfectly refreshing experience. It was a great day for a dip and good conversation. Anyway, how do I live and experience more everything? Where do I begin? Let's figure that out over the next few paragraphs.
My Top 5 Red Flags
*Disclaimer: all names/examples have been slightly altered to protect the innocent and guilty*
I'm sure you're wondering why this red flag is
draped around this cross. Well, don't strain yourself. I'm going to tell you.
In honor of Resurrection Day, Holy Week, Passover and any other special holiday
you recognized last week or none; I thought it was fitting since I'll be discussing my
top five (5) red flags and how to escape them! Or rather how to say yes to
change on a Thursday and come back new Sunday like you never left. See the parallelism there? The point is, I
needed a little supernatural help with this post! Here goes…
Tidal Shift
A moment of clarity changes everything. It can completely alter the trajectory of one's life. This is my story. A shift in my universe occurred as I was modestly laying under an umbrella, on my vibrant Cynthia Rowley elephant beach towel. The ocean breeze was cooling my body at the same time the warm sun was beating down. My ear buds were blasting Chill House radio on Pandora; this genre is like a mix between deep house and lounge music. They are sounds that make you want to close your eyes and lift your arms, as if you were at a chill rave with glow sticks.
Just Dip Your Toe In
After a series of unsuccessful relationships that have sent me spinning out of control like one of those awful, cheap carnival rides; spiraling into some of the most depressive states of mind was when I finally realized that I needed to make some radical life changes. I'm not talking about changing my hair color or going on a massive cleanse. I'm not even talking about getting tattoos in order to commemorate the loss of a relationship. All of which I've done by the way. Thankfully, the tattoo artist stopped me from writing Loser in a certain spot. But rather, I'm talking about something soul altering, even life changing. Something revolutionary.
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