Tag Archives: Confessions Of A Dizzy Blonde

Whipped cream…

Do you have people in your life that make you feel like a million dollars? Or like a cup of hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and marshmallows?

I do. And I sure hope you do, too.

However, the trick in life is to make yourself feel that way. We all run out of steam some days (or, well, usually all days around four pm) and can do with a pick-me-up. A burst of happy energy. Like a kind word from those lovely people who have sunshine coming out of their behinds.

So what do those people do? Do they compliment us? Do they take us on magical or adventurous experiences? Do they make us sit down and breathe for a while? Take in the moment? Or chase us with a stick to ensure we live our passions? Whatever it is, it’s what we should be doing.

I am all for a cup of coffee when I run out of steam at four pm, but I need something more substantial to keep me going. I need to live my passions, go on magical (and wickedly wild) adventures, compliment myself, breathe in the moment and enjoy this thing called life.

If your life lacks luster…just add whipped cream…
See yourself as others do. For more of my poetry, check Instagram @themagiqueboutique

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Filed under diary, Insights, Inspiration, Inspirational, Musings, poetry, Uncategorized

Prayer…

A man walked up to me yesterday. A parking attendant at the beach. Told me he knew me.

“You taught me at the drug rehab center some years back,” he said. “You’re Maria.”

We chatted briefly–I asked him if he was still attending classes, but he said they charged now and he couldn’t afford it. It looked to me like he had relapsed. I had the child I raise with me, so I didn’t stay for long to chat–we were at the beach to run about and chase the sunset.

As we made our way back to the car, we met him again. And as I left, he stood staring after me.

This is not the first time, nor the last time this will happen. People know me. People have come up to me to ask me if I can take their children and raise them, if I can hire them, if I can sort out their husband who has taken their child from them, if I could please make way for a foster child, if I can get them off drugs, if I can get someone to help them with a child they raise… And yet, the requests I get are sporadic. The requests Liezl gets are non-stop.

Liezl runs the not-for-profit educare center I’ve been involved with for eight years now. The place where I met the kids I ended up helping to raise. The place that changed my life.

Sometimes, these requests warm my heart. Sometimes they break it.

We’re always fighting. Fighting for funds for a safe house for women. Fighting for funds to look after more children. Fighting for the right to build a larger center. Fighting to get me the right visa so I can stay forever with the kids. Fighting for awareness. Fighting for change. Fighting to help.

Often, we’re fighting for our own survival, too. We’ve been on so many journeys, ups and downs and roundabouts. We’ve made mistakes, we’ve failed people, we’ve cried, we’ve been too broke to mention…

And, today, I was thinking that maybe it’s time to stop fighting and start praying. You cannot help everyone. You cannot sink your own life to the ground trying to do so. But you can pray. You can have faith that things will come right and that you will thrive in the end. And that you will help those who are meant to receive it. You have to let go of the rest. You have to realize that you are not responsible for anyone, but you can become a vessel that helps when there’s a way to do so. And I believe, if you open yourself up to that, then you will indeed become a vessel of good, instead of one that’s constantly fighting the waves on a stormy sea–only just about avoiding becoming a shipwreck.

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Filed under Inspiration, Inspirational, Motivation, Spirituality

Winter…

The earth rose to greet her no matter the season. Today the air smelled of winter. It had that unmistakably clean tinge to it and was cold and crisp like an apple. It was almost as if though you could take a bite and it would crack like the skin of an apple, or a piece of ice. Frost was only a breath away.

Dreams clouded the sky–it was so heavy with them, she just about expected them to fall down and powder the earth with a fine layer of snow. Because in winter, people dreamed. Cooped up in their houses huddling by their fireplaces, they dreamed. They dreamed of long days and summer nights spent out in the wilderness catching fish, or kissing their latest lover, high on the essence of summer. And as people dreamed, the sky got clouded with their desires until they fell down like snow–sprinkling the earth with seeds that would blossom once summer arrived. At least if they were nurtured.

Snow. All she could think of was roses captured in Turkish delight. Smooth like ice. Cold. Dusted with powdered sugar, just as the earth would soon be dusted with snow.

People did not associate roses with winter, but today she felt sure roses were just what she needed and what should go on the menu tomorrow. Some light pink Turkish delight to match the soft grays of the clouded sky. And if combined with something made with mint, it would be cool, too.

Roses were soft and sweet and people needed that on days like these when the grayness of the world threatened to swallow them. Yet, there was an edge to all the gray. A sharpness–a bite in the air that turned your cheeks into roses in their own right. As much as your senses were dulled by the gray color scheme, they were awakened by the cold. It was impossible not to get a thrill when walking briskly in this weather.

So that’s what she did–Violette went for a brisk walk through the sleeping little town. The streets winded around sand colored houses. Walking along those streets, Violette felt comforted knowing that she knew every turn. Every step was familiar to her.

Then she stopped. In front of her was a red parcel. Neatly wrapped and sealed with wax, it stood on the pavement like a stop sign. A tag was attached to the parcel with a piece of twine and suddenly the tag moved with an unexpected gust of wind that seemed to have come out of nowhere. It was a still morning. The morning before frost. The morning before snow. The air was practically heavy with it. Heavy and still.

As the tag moved, Violette took a step closer. The tag was black and her name was written on it in purple. Purple paint. As she leaned down to take a closer look, the scent of violets greeted her nostrils. Spooked she took an involuntary step back. Her grandma had always done that–scented her gifts with violets–but she’d been gone for many years now. Violette ran her bakery. Lived in her house. Cared for her plants and her customers alike. So who was this parcel from and why was it standing in the middle of the pavement?

The sun had only just grazed the sky with that kind of bright yet muted yellow light that signifies a winter morning. It mixed together with the gray to create that perfect winter sky. The fact that it was a Sunday and the sun had just risen explained why no one else had found the package. This was peoples’ day off. A time to sleep and mend old socks and friendships, not a time for getting out of bed at the crack of dawn. Though, admittedly, many people did. They just didn’t set about walking through the village unless they had a very urgent errand. All shops were closed–even her bakery.

Violette felt a shiver move through her. She took a step closer toward the parcel again. This time, she touched it. It felt good. Warm somehow, even though it was cold to the touch.

She turned the tag around.

“My dear Violette, when you receive this I will be long gone, but your dreams will still be alive. Your heart beating in your chest, your keen eyes always studying and learning, and your mind stirring with questions and answers. You’re a seeker, yet someone who is content to stay mostly in one place. You love your home, but would like to see the world for short periods of time. I have no doubt you will undertake many short journeys. Maybe even a grand one, one day. However, in the meantime, I give you this gift. I told Xe to drop it off when passing through town next. He might come see you, he might not. He’s a curious fellow with a brilliant mind, not unlike yours. You’ll enjoy his company if he does pop by. I told him to leave you the gift where you’ll find it. Given it’s Xe, it might be at an unexpected place. I may not be able to hug you, but I will always love you, Gran.”

Violette stared at the tag, that, by now, felt burning hot on her skin. It was a note from her gran from beyond the grave. Tears rose to her eyes. On the darkest day of the year, her gran had given her a gift.

It was a miracle. Only, of course, it wasn’t. It was just her gran thinking ahead and planning a lovely surprise for her. But then miracles are often like that–small things that are exactly what we need.

As of late, Violette had felt restless. Like she had to go some place, only she didn’t know where yet. She was not so patiently waiting for it to reveal itself. The place she was meant to go, that is. And how she was meant to get there also needed to become clear. She knew the day would come when she’d know, but in the meantime, she’d taken to pacing her kitchen at night and drinking way too much lemon balm and mint tea to soothe her restless mind.

Violette scooped up the gift, and turned around to return to the bakery. She couldn’t wait to unwrap the gift and make her Turkish delight and mint…mint caramels, she decided. Some would be crushed and sprinkled over the Turkish delight. Soothing. They’d be soothing. She needed that now. Just as she needed to open the burning hot gift resting in her arms.

This week we’ve been celebrating the winter solstice here in the southernmost tip of Africa. I’ve been listening to First Frost (again), drunk mulled wine, baked apple pie, lit several fires and candles (a candle is currently burning bright next to me and a fire is blazing downstairs), baked french bread, eaten popcorn with chipotle sauce and butter, collected pine cones and chased shy rays of sunshine. As the weekend approached, this came to me. Well snippets of this came to me. Something about Turkish delight, the scent of winter rising from the earth, and dreams snowing from the sky. The rest I penned now. It’s part of my collection of short stories that will, possibly, add up to a book one day. A book, possibly, called The Jester. There’s a lot of possibly in there. You will find the other chapters/stories here.

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Filed under Magical Realism, Winter, Writing

The Superwoman crisis…

Do you ever feel like you’re fighting the snot wars? I do. All the time.

It’s winter in Africa and the little one I raise has had three colds in five weeks. Of course, I’ve had most of those colds too. Single parenthood, toppled with colds and oh, winter holidays. Because crèche here closes for three weeks?! And parents are meant to…pay even more for childcare? During COVID?

So you work from home, while blowing the little one’s nose. Over and over again.

The other night, I had the pleasure of being awoken in the middle of the night and then peed down. Literally. I was peed down. Ever tried to night potty train? Oh yeah, that.

In the middle of the night, I swore. I said a long line of unsuitable words only a Londoner would know. Then, of course, I felt ashamed of myself. So I swore at myself instead.

Some days, I feel like we’re fighting poverty, world hunger, the education crisis (on a micro scale) and a few other things at Little Angels. Some days, I feel like my movies will entertain, enlighten and make the world a better place. Some days, I feel like all the work I do in the personal development field is turning me into the next Dale Carnegie. And some days, I’m fighting the snot wars and learning how not to swear at midnight.

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Filed under diary, Humor, Musings, Parenthood, Parenting, Uncategorized

The incredible dream…

As we get older, heck, even in our twenties, we often realize there are some things we do over and over again. Some of those things are great. We are always on time. We always manage to pay our bills. We always date kind guys. Other times, they aren’t so great. We’re never on time. We only just manage to pay the bills. We always date emotionally unavailable guys. We fuck up in the same way over and over again. It’s our dysfunctional pattern, whatever it may be.

Sometimes, it’s more subtle. We’ve lived in a similar manner for years. What was once exciting has now grown stagnant. It’s no longer putting a smile on our face; no longer fulfilling us.

And change…how do you create it? At times, it seems pretty damn impossible, doesn’t it? How are you going to create something you’ve never had?

There are two ways around this.

The first is structure. If you’ve always been bad at managing accounts, hire an accountant. If you’re bad at exercising, hire a personal trainer. Alternatively, read some books on the topic you want to get better at, then set up a plan. A structure. To stick to the new structure, get an accountability partner.

The second, is to dare to dream. If you’ve never brought in the millions it seems incredible to do so, doesn’t it? Yet your neighbor, has never earned less than 200k a year and, by now, sit on plenty of millions thanks to wise investments. How does your neighbor think? What’s normal to them? What’s a small amount of money to them? What’s a large amount of money to them? For them, not bringing in the millions is as unthinkable as it is for you to bring them in.

When something becomes possible, it suddenly becomes attainable. Not in a foggy dreamlike sort of way, but in a real, practical kind of way. It’s incredible what opportunities come along once you dare to dream up a new possibility. A new way of life. The life of your neighbor.

It’s time to imagine having some fun. Some real life fucking magic. Because it’s possible. Just as if by magic.

You can find my poetry on Insta: @TheMagiqueBoutique

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Filed under Inspiration, Inspirational, Motivation, Poem, poetry

Bruised bottoms…

There’s no fucking backup plan for falling in love. You fall. You stumble down some stairs, land flat on your ass and look up to someone who now appears as a giant before you. All other men, in comparison, ants. They lack the beautiful traits, the significant looks, and the commonalities the other man shares with you. They seem insignificant in comparison.

The thing is, you have to do it. You have to fall. You have to imagine that this man is better than all the rest, even if you know it’s an illusion. Because without that illusion, there are no butterflies. No tingles in your forearms. No longing so painful and so sweet a mere text messages makes you erupt in euphoria.

You want those feelings.

At the same time, of course, you need to be practical. This man, if any good, will end up your husband. He has to be able to express what he needs, while still thinking you’re some thinly veiled goddess. He has to be able to say the hard stuff and praise–generously–the good stuff. He needs to be able to build a reality with you where you are both happy. He will have to read the books you recommend about marriage, and go on a trip to Beijing even though he doesn’t want to. He has to get up at five on days you have a fever, to make sure you get breakfast in bed. And just like that, you have to do the same for him. You have to do things you’d never imagined just to learn to understand and aid this giant of a man. And that’s when it really helps to think he is a giant compared to other men. It helps to have butterflies in your belly. It helps to be seduced by his mind and body, heart and soul. It’s the fuel that will take you through.

But all of that can only last–the endorphin high–if the hard work is done.

And that’s why many people get off of the floor, dust their bottoms, and start climbing the stairs again. Because they aren’t willing to work. To learn. To compromise. Instead, the giant becomes a giant obstacle, hindering them on their path. Or the giant is uncompromising; unwilling to move.

Thankfully, for all of us, we’ve learned that falling and getting up isn’t too hard. Not when you’re on round twenty-five, or so. You’ve learned you can climb stairs, even in stilettos. You’ve learned you’re OK, even when you’re bruised.

And if nothing else, there’s coffee. Dark, divine, delicious coffee. Laden with just the right amount of honey to sweeten it and cream to tame the darkness. That coffee, served at an ungodly hour will kickstart you once more. Your internal engine humming.

There’s also tea. Drunk together with friends, who pat you on the back and give you another cookie. A sugar rush. Something to bring you back to the moment and forget your temporary insanity when you thought a mere man a giant.

Tea brings new adventures as souls set out on journeys together; discover new thoughts; decide to start up businesses; or go on spa weekends in the country. Tea is the glue that keeps souls together. And we all know when it’s time to put on the kettle and bake the scones.

Then, there’s wine and champagne when we are in need of a good giggle–bubbles bursting on our tongue and tickling our throat. Landing in our belly like butterflies. And as our mind ascends to a pink cloud, we look around and start seeing men. Maybe not giants, but men with potential at least. Men who wink at us and tell us we’re OK, even with our bruised bottoms. Men who’d be happy for us to fall for them–men who might even catch us as we stumble down the stairs on a giddy high. Men who would, potentially, consider doing the hard work. The push-ups that will give them the muscle that make us smile and lick our lips. The men willing to go the extra mile. If, of course, we do the same.

One day, you’ll meet a man who will remain a giant. Till that day, dust yourself up and brew some coffee–head to a friend for tea and go out for wine. Life. Feel it. Brewing inside of you until it bursts out in cascades of stars. Be a star. Glitter. Glimmer. Indulge in every moment. Drink the morning dew. Recognize it for the nectar that it is. Turn up the music and dance around the kitchen. Look out over the rooftops of Paris as many times as you need to get inspired. Run so fast you fall over and laugh uncontrollably with a runner’s high. Drive along the PCH till you feel freedom pump around your blood. Howl at a full moon. Set yourself free–scream with joy and jump in puddles–and discover the treasure right there at your doorstep. Especially if you’re in isolation–make sure that doorstep fucking shines.

At eight o’clock I call you

Waiting to hear your voice

Like a kid waiting for Santa 

Like a desperate woman pouring a glass of wine

Oh even if you don’t pick up

And I’m sent to voice mail

I get to hear that dark grumble

That always makes me stumble

Right into your arms

Where I escape the day’s harms

You’re no hero

No man in shining armor

A tad bruised 

A tad battered

Scarred enough to be a man 

Lost enough to be human

But with an inner compass

Looking for the light 

At eight o’clock I call you

Oh even if you don’t pick up

And I’m sent to voice mail

I get to hear that dark grumble

That always makes me stumble

Right into your arms

Where I escape the day’s harms

The truth is

I learned to walk long ago

Both in high heels and bare feet

Even with sneakers in obstacle courses

And even though I sometimes stumble 

I know that I’ll win the race

Celebrate another day ending

And the next’s beginning

And yet at eight o’clock I call you

Oh even if you don’t pick up

And I’m sent to voice mail

I get to hear that dark grumble

That always makes me stumble

Right into your arms

Where I escape the day’s harms

I can walk 

I can run 

I can pick myself up when I stumble 

I’m fine

I’m free

I’ll bleed and I’ll heal

I’ll laugh and I’ll move forward 

I’ll love and live and pirouette

Around the next corner

For yet another adventure

But at eight o’clock I call you

Oh even if you don’t pick up

And I’m sent to voice mail

I get to hear that dark grumble

That always makes me stumble

Right into your arms

Where I enjoy another 

Of life’s treasures

Yours truly,

Dizzy Blonde aka Maria Montgomery and yes, the copyright is all mine and all that.

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Filed under confessions, diary, Happiness, Insights, Inspiration, Inspirational, Love, Love-life, Motivation, Musings, Poem, poetry, Relationship, relationships

‘Tis the season…

’Tis the season…to be of service to others. 

I know many have had what we in South Africa would call “a hectic year.” Many are furious with the world…and with governments. All round, people have been struggling to “do the right thing.” Sometimes it’s worked, sometimes it hasn’t. And I’ve seen people lose their heads because they disagree on how to best tackle a pandemic that’s affected almost everyone alive today. Quite a few felt separated because of the US elections, too. People have been taking sides. 

Sometimes, it’s nice to shift your focus to what’s working and how you can build bridges with others instead of burning them. How you can stand together to help one another—even if you disagree on things. 

A lot of people are struggling, so let’s help them and ourselves by being of service—by going out of our way to do a nice thing. It’s easy to be kind, it’s harder to drive the long way around to do a nice thing. Being of service means you go out of your way to help others. 

However, it does not mean you hurt yourself in the process. I (and many people I know), have gone out of their way to help others at their own expense. That’s self destruction, not being of service. 

Point being, the coaching group I’m part of created a challenge for us to be of service—commit five acts of service in the coming month. It’s an open challenge, so I invite anyone who wants to spread the Christmas cheer to join. 

You don’t have to be rich, or be in the right circumstances, or have had an epic year to be an extraordinary person. So let’s challenge ourselves to be just that (even if we sometimes want to scream and kick and shout about travel bans, and the fear of being coughed at, or everyone’s opposing opinion). 

Merry ho ho y’all! 

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Filed under Inspiration, Inspirational, Motivation, Yule

Turn it up and turn it on…

I wrote “turned on like a light switch” in a sentence today, which made me chuckle as I found the metaphor terribly cheesy. It got me thinking though.

We’re either turned on, or turned off. The lights are either on, or they’re off.

What’s the difference?

Your thoughts. Your thoughts are the difference between being turned on and turned off.

Taking that a bit further, you could say your focus determines whether you’re turned on, or turned off.

It is the same thing that determines if you’re happy, or not.

I’m not saying external factors don’t contribute, they do. But there’s still your choice where you put your focus. And that, in turn, will help determine external factors as it will determine what you create next.

The current pandemic is an interesting example of looking at how people choose to focus. I’m not talking about the people who’ve lost it all, but people who may have been affected, but haven’t suffered a blow from hell.

For example, I saw someone complain that the World Health Organization called for a lockdown first, then showed stats of how the economy has been affected badly and saying maybe to stop lockdowns due to increased poverty.

The thing is, no one had the answers up front. Did some people try to make money? Yes. They’d be stupid not to. Did some people do immoral things? No doubt. Should they have made money out of it? No. Are there big pharma and governments that are corrupt? Hell to the yes. Did the world try its best to come together to fight the pandemic? Did people step up and reach out to one another? Did health workers risk their lives? Yes.

I can’t personally understand why people protest against wearing a mask as it PROTECTS OTHERS. Protest the lockdowns all you like, but use common sense in preventing others from getting a virus you might carry without realizing it. You don’t have to wear a mask among friends, so you can still keep your immune system happy with fighting germs. But not wearing one in public where you don’t know who you interact with, might spread the virus to someone vulnerable and might spread the virus too fast for healthcare facilities to cope. If you don’t want a lockdown because the hospitals are overflowing–like in Italy where people were sitting outside hospitals unable to breathe–wear a mask and wash your fucking hands. Spray down your groceries. Do you part in stopping the spread of the virus. If you don’t, don’t complain when you sit outside a hospital and can’t get the help you need.

Sweden got lots of shit for not doing a lockdown, as lots of people died. Then other countries got lots of shit for doing a lockdown, as lots of people lost their jobs.

Forcing people to work during a pandemic seems wrong. Forcing them to stay home might be wrong too. Overflowing the hospitals so not everyone can get care, also seems wrong.

Many people feel helpless because it’s damn hard figuring out the right thing to do–should you isolate? Should you keep your children at home? Should you be angry with the government for lockdowns, or support them? Should you take a vaccine when they just come out, or will that make you sick instead?

Nobody knows all the answers. Nobody knows if a lab fucked up and spread the virus, or if China deliberately did so. For sure not all governments were in on this though, because people and governments are losing money like hell. Will big pharma milk the situation? Yes. Are all scientists and doctors bad? No.

The best we can do? Focus on what we can do. Create business opportunities, instead of bemoaning the ones that have been lost. Look after your health by eating well, sleeping well, exercising well, breathing well, spending time in nature and doing our part in socializing–even if it’s online or two meters apart (and yes, socializing and spending time in nature, as well as getting enough sleep on regular hours have all proven to improve our health). Likewise, take a multivitamin a couple of times a week, and take your herbal supplements, or drink your herbal teas, if you can afford it. Support yourself. Don’t wanna take the vaccine, don’t take it, but don’t bemoan the people who do and by doing so keep you safe.

Also, focus on what’s working. This is not the plague in the 1500s. Thank you modern medicine. Thank you for opportunities to stay safe. Thank you for people who get together in innovative ways to build community in times where you have to social distance. Thank you for those who create joy in times of upheaval. Thanks for still being alive. Thanks for still being able to eat. Thank you world wide web for giving us the opportunity to learn about health resources and enabling us to connect with others. Thank you nice dress that I can wear to feel sexy, even during a pandemic.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

You may not agree with me on all the above, but please do your best to think thoughts that serve you. Focus on what’s working and if something isn’t working, focus on the solution. Stop hating on people who see things differently, and instead work to create something that shows the benefits of what you believe in. Test your theories instead of hating those who have different ones. As the story goes, you don’t change someone’s behavior by telling them what’s wrong, but by showing them what’s right.

And remember, you can still laugh. Just focus on something funny.

Dizzy Blonde, over and out.

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Filed under COVID, Happiness, Inspiration, Inspirational, Joy, Personal Development, personal growth, Personal Journeys, self help

Let’s get excited!!!

When was the last time you went wild when seeing someone?

I get it. That sentence can be interpreted in more ways than one.

Let’s try again.

When was the last time you got excited when someone you know walked through the door? Someone you see on a daily basis?

I was looking out the window earlier and saw the dogs going wild as the neighbors returned. They’d been away for an hour, or two.

When I walk out my room, the little one gets excited. We’ve been isolating since COVID started and he sees me all the time. But I need time to work, so I’m locked up in my bedroom for most of the day. When I walk out, it’s hugs and kisses and happiness all round.

He also likes to knock on my door to ask if I’d like to come play horse, or go to the forest. I do. Sometimes. Right now, I’m about to finish this blog and head to the forest.

I remember being a kid and waiting for my dad to come home by the end of the day. Especially when I was sick, which was often. I’d get so happy when I heard his car arrive, or his voice in the hallway.

It was so good to see someone I cared about. Someone who would bring something to my day. He’d smell like fresh air and the outside world–adventure.

When we get older, as our partner, or friend whom we see often, walk in the door, we continue working, or cooking, or doing the laundry. How often do we stop what we are doing and run to see them, flinging ourselves into their arms?

With COVID, we might have come to appreciate human relationships more, but maybe it’s time to learn a thing, or two, from dogs and kids.

Our time on Earth is limited. At least in this incarnation. When you see someone you love, stop what you’re doing and fling yourself at them with all the enthusiasm of a puppy seeing their human.

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Filed under confessions, diary, Inspiration, Inspirational, Motivation, Musings

When shit hits the fan, buy toilet paper…and have a giggle…

This year’s trending words so far:

  • social distancing
  • masks
  • hand sanitizer
  • toilet paper
  • panic shopping

As a human, this doesn’t exactly make me smile. As a writer, I find it hilarious. It’s like living in a science fiction comedy where panic has turned humans into anti-bac spraying, mask wearing, toilet paper obsessed morons.

It is the year when toilet paper trumps roses as birthday gifts. Not that I ever found roses particularly interesting, unless they come delivered as a bush. You know, so you can plant them, grow them, harvest the petals and use them in cooking, baking and teas. Then, roses make sense.

Not that I object a beautiful bouquet of flowers–they’re a symbol. A beautiful symbol at that. It’s just, they don’t make my heart race, or my imagination take flight. For that, more innovative and thoughtful gifts are required.

Toilet paper, unlike a bouquet of roses, you can use. And if someone writes cute poetry on it, you may even enjoy your visits to the bathroom a little bit more.

In fact, I’d totally get behind the idea of receiving loo roll with poetry on it.

The thing is, when something like COVID comes along that has the potential of flooding hospitals with patients and kill off a small percentage of the population, not least because hospitals are struggling with resources, it’s scary.

But just as when terrorism and immigration were seen as the scariest things in the world, it’s not the scariest thing in the world.

If you Google the stats, you’ll soon figure out that cancer is a lot more frightening. However, you can protect yourself from COVID in ways you can’t from cancer. Then again, certain cancers, are caused by toxins, HPV (a sexually transmitted disease), and lifestyle choices. And those cancers you can protect yourself from, but are you?

Are you living a healthy lifestyle devoid of toxins? Do you refrain from sex with a lot of different people? Are you building up your immune system?

Even with COVID, working on your immune system is a great idea. From what I’ve learned when penning health and wellness articles, that means good sleep, time in nature, exercise, healthy meals and a life with as little negative stress as possible. Certain herbs and spices may also help you build up your immune system.

What people believe to be the scariest thing in the world, often isn’t the scariest thing in the world. But that doesn’t mean it won’t kill some people. Take precaution. But also take precaution for things that aren’t perceived as immediate dangers. Such as having a heart attack due to poor lifestyle choices. I bet overdosing on fat and sugar doesn’t scare you half as much as COVID, but it should. Statistically speaking.

Personally, with COVID, I’d rather be safe than sorry. If I can socialize two meters apart, in nature and spray everything with anti-bac, I’m quite happy with that. For now.

That, however, does not mean I’ll focus on COVID. I don’t need to listen to COVID stories all day long. I don’t need to think about toilet paper. Hey, if we run out there are magazines and leafs and this thing called washing using water.

This year has been a rollercoaster for most of us. And some have lost near and dear ones to COVID. That’s horrible. But rollercoaster rides aren’t just horrible, they’re also a thrill and can give you the giggles. If nothing else, because everything’s upside down. So let’s focus on the good stuff, not on hand sanitizer.

You can choose your own trending words for the year. Such as art, creativity, nature, family, achievement, and happiness.

When things change, you have to find opportunities in things that present themselves in the now. Such as opening a bidet business, or manufacturing your own toilet paper. Or why not create a new exercise routine at home, launch the online business of your dreams, learn to grow your own vegetables, or finally meditate daily?

You’re your own boss. Now more so than ever.

No, you might not be able to travel to the other side of the world. But there is so much to be thankful for. This isn’t the plague and we aren’t living in the 1500s. That’s a starting point.

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