Despite Your Hairy Armpits

Gazing out the window with sleepy eyes, I am mesmerized by the softly falling snowflakes.  This is not what I anticipated seeing this morning as I was summoned awake by the triumphant sounds of the aviary song of a new dawn.  The vista before me provokes the feelings of early winter snowfall and the anticipation of the holiday season.  But today is April 17, 2020, and not December 17, 2019. As I sip my morning tea and continue to gaze out the window, I realize that I am struggling to make sense of the stillness that my being is sensing.  This snowy scene, the global virus of fear and the chaos of our current state of affairs, should have me feeling heavy and full of despair, and yet the o

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