Planting the seeds

This is a one year project I am starting 5 days late.  Whoops! There goes that new years resolution.  The point of the project is to remember joy within the daily grind.  Our days are busy; packed with meals to be made, shoelaces to be tied, dogs to be walked, commutes to be traveled, papers to prepare, and other tasks that over time have become mundane.  In those busy moments is when I forget to stop, just a short pause to appreciate the set of big blue eyes watching me as “the alligator eats its food” (zipping up a winter coat) with such appreciation and awe, or the little nest so carefully created in the eaves of an old wood shed.  I rush about, dashing off the lines that I am simply too busy to readjust the princess crown one more time, or have too much to do to build yet another tower baby brother will inevitably just knock over.  But this is life.  Some may say it’s a virus of modern life, but I am fairly sure when my Oma was working hard raising her five children she spouted off similar lines, shooing her boys outdoors where mess could be made without trouble.

My other fault; one word, martyr.  Doesn’t it seem like the whole world is full of Joan-Of-Arcs? It’s as though we feel a need to be martyrs.  We hide our joys in fear that we may be seen as braggarts.  This is an oddity of human nature I cannot quite wrap my head around, but one I would like to alter.

I was raised by a polarity set of wonderful, loving parents.  My mom can easily be compared to Pollyanna – the little girl that always sees the bright side in all situations.  My dad, describes himself as “Positively negative.”  He also adds that he is realistic.  I fall somewhere in the middle.  I can see bright sides, but my logical brain continually nags away the stardust in my eyes.  Once that happens all joy seems to be hidden under a veil of busy to-dos and “should be doings instead”.

In this project my goals are to simply live, live simply and notice the joys around me.  I do not wish to be a pure Pollyanna, but I am hoping that in time joy will become my nature, and a habit I can pass onto my little ones.

This blog (funny word) documents my journey to joy.

Life has not really given me lemons, but I need to start collecting at least a few good recipes for lemonade, just in case.  So here we go …


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