pollen on my hat & happiness

 I write to you from the porch where flowers are beginning to grow and charms of spices like basil and oregano are filling the air and making the bellies of those who walk past hungrier. I was born to be a gardener - to dig trenches with my hands, to push baby roots into soil, to water, to prune, to frown when the prairie wind becomes too much, to gaze at what grows tall and what withers away. I don't know everything there is to know about what makes a human being happy or what makes them teary eyed, but I do know gardening has been good to me. In the soil, there are short stories. Although, like all living things, they will eventually come to an end, the shortness of time makes them all the more precious.

Since we're on the conversation about happiness, something very exciting came my way last Sunday. I won first place in a songwriting competition — yes, me, Amy, the one who has spent a lifetime wondering where to find life's fruit. It happened for me and no matter how many times I pinch my skin, the reality has yet to show. My heart keeps beating faster than a rabbit's tail and I wander free from care into the morning light. 

If you were looking for a sign to climb that hill which scares you so deeply, take heed. I tried to talk myself out of entering the competition because I didn't think I was good enough. I had myself convinced it was not in me to take such a risk. I could be happy living forever in my own private garden, without ever letting fear torment me, because sometimes it looks easier to hide than to live. The truth is, life's meaning is not found in the prizes, it is found in the trying, in the times we choose not to doubt ourselves, in the planting, and in the living. If every flower came to my garden already bright and in bloom, it wouldn't feel as right. If we never had darkness, how could we long for the light? I am happy today because I did something that scared me, something that I could have easily dismissed because I didn't want to build a home for the butterflies in my belly. Putting yourself on a platter to be judged is not an easy thing to do, but every so often, the effort rings true and you feel better being seen than being hidden.

Take a risk. Climb that hill. This time is yours to spend.

outfit details: chicwish skirt, thrifted blouse, montana tackstore lace up boots

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