You know what I love almost more than anything? Flowers. I’m one of those incredibly sappy, hopeless romantic people who thinks that the giving and receiving of flowers is poetic and beautiful. It’s not the smell, not necessarily the look, it’s the sentiment. It’s the idea of a person seeing something beautiful, thinking of you, and then sharing that beauty with you. On my birthday I received not one, not two, but three bouquets of flowers. Each one was different in their coloring and scent, but they all made me feel incredibly special and loved. You see, I have been wanting to buy myself flowers ever since I moved to Tassie. In fact, there’s a flower shop a minutes walk from my house that I’ve been meaning to visit, but I just haven’t. There’s a lot of things I think about doing, or that I want to do that would bring me joy, but I just don’t do them. I think I get so caught up in the busyness of life, that I don’t allow myself enough time to stop and smell the roses, to think about what’s around me, or the little things I love, and let myself pursue them. Last week, I wrote about my new journey of healing, how I want to pause and reflect and cry and work through everything I’ve avoided. That’s good and well, but I think that in learning how to heal and move forward, I’ve also got to re-learn what happiness is, and how to pursue it.
I read a book last week called ‘Happiness for Beginners.’ It wasn’t a self-help book, it was a fictional novel about a thirty-year-old divorced woman who tries to discover herself while hiking in the Rockies. I’ve had it on my shelf for over a year, because I thought I could relate to whatever journey she’d go on and lesson she learned, but I was afraid it might be too relatable, so I avoided it. It was relatable, but not in the sad way I was expecting. It was witty, encouraging, and all-around a solid novel; I was kind of upset that I’d put it off for so long. Reading about the way Helen, the woman in the book, slowed down and took in everything around her, finding joy in the little things, inspired me. Why don’t I slow down, think about what brings me joy, and then actually do it? It’s such a simple, easy concept, but how often do we actually allow ourselves enough time to take care of ourselves? To slow down and just… be. As previously stated, for the last year and a half, I’ve avoided slowing down like the plague, but I’m determined to change that. I mean, I’m in Tasmania, one of the most beautiful places in the world. If there’s a time in my life to learn how to slow down, to fall in love with life and myself, a time to study happiness for beginners, it’s now.
Last Saturday, I discovered that I love having friends over for dinner. I was standing in my kitchen, looking over at the sunshine hitting the table, and I remember thinking, “Let me set the table, that might be fun.” While I was arranging the plates and cutlery, which isn’t fancy in the slightest, I felt an intense joy hitting me. I was proud to make a beautiful setting for my friends, to give them a night off from cooking, to practice my cooking skills and learn a new recipe. I’ve never had a home with such good lighting before, the funds to afford ingredients for whatever meal I wanted, or the confidence to cook a recipe I’d never made before for friends. But there’s something about the way the natural light shines in my home, it makes me feel like I can cook anything in that kitchen. So, on Monday morning when I asked myself, “What makes you happy?” I knew at least one answer, and that was cooking for friends. I decided that I would start inviting my friends over more, and I would challenge myself to cook whatever sounded good. If it tasted good, that was great, and if it tasted bad, there’s a McDonalds not too far away.
With each day that passed, I questioned myself more. On Wednesday after my morning with Wilma and the boys, I decided to go for a run at the Tamar Wetlands, less than a five minute drive from my house. I realized that, even though I live in such a beautiful place, I’ve hardly taken the time to enjoy it. So, I put my headphones on, blasted my eighties pop, and went for a run in the marsh. I allowed myself to stop and take photos, to pause at the dock, and to stop caring so much about how fast I ran, but how my heart felt. I remembered how in love I am with a spring run. On Thursday, I watched a scary movie with my friends, and on Friday, I realized that I wanted to chop all my hair off; so on Saturday, I did. Then today, when I realized I had an hour to spare, I drove along the Tamar River with my windows down, playing my favorite music, while I smelled the salty air. I realized that running makes me happy, my friends make me happy, reading makes me happy, music makes me happy, cooking makes me happy, and the feeling of the wind blowing my incredibly short hair makes me ecstatic.
The bright side is that happiness is always for beginners. It’s always there to learn, if we’re willing to slow down, and make the time to do so. Running and listening to eighties music isn’t life-giving to everyone, but it is to me, and yet I rarely do it. Maybe it’s because, deep down, I don’t see myself as worthy or important enough to be taken care of. I think time that’s spent on me could be better spent on someone else, but that isn’t true. How can I fill someone else’s cup, if mine is always running on empty? This morning, I didn’t want to get out of bed; the weight of my pain was overwhelming. But, I got up anyway, I made the choices that I believed would make me happy, even if I didn’t feel it at the time. I went to church, I had lunch with friends, and I smiled as I stared at the beauty of creation. Doing what brings you joy doesn’t mean it will always go well, I tried making a burrata last night and it turned out nothing like the recipe, but that’s okay. Because learning joy is also about being patient with yourself, laughing with yourself, learning about yourself, and falling in love with who you are. I might be a beginner at slowing down, at healing, and this whole being happy thing, but trust me, one day I’ll become a pro.
Yours Truly,
the Brightside Blonde