I Hope You're Happy.

When I started writing, I thought writing about my life would be easy. I've never been so wrong about anything - and I've never been happier for that to be the case. 

Lately, it's been hard. Both life itself and writing about it. I've had a lot to write about, but very little energy to put into that. It's difficult to explain myself when I say I "don't have the energy" to write. How can I not have the energy to sit at my computer and type? How can I not have the energy to put what's happening in my heart on a blank webpage? That's a part of this process I'll probably never understand, and of allllllllllllllllll the things I don't "get" in this life... that's my favorite. 

Because while I'm wondering how that can be possible, I'm living. Moment to moment. Conversation by conversation. Mistake by mistake. Lesson by lesson. Loving it all. Loving how incredibly lucky I am. There are soooooooooooo many things that keep me lucky. Even... actually especially in a year like 2020.

I promised myself early on this year that I would make every effort to focus on the good. 2020 has been a hostile environment for that, but it also has reminded me to never take the little things for granted. It's helped me appreciate things that didn't mean much to me before. Things have somehow been harder than they've ever been, and so much better than ever before at the same time. 

I don't have a lot to say about it for the time being, but I do know one thing. I know I'm really, really lucky. Exhausted. But lucky. 

Lucky to have an occasional Saturday off and to get to start it around the dining room table with my favorite things. Warm cinnamon rolls, hot cocoa, and a family that loves to tell stories. 

Lucky to happen to have had a $20 bill in my pocket the same morning so I could support a local artist and walk away with a new piece for my own little home. Lucky that these people got to be there with me. Lucky that this was just the start to several fantastic days together. 

Lucky to have gotten to spend four years studying something I've been dreaming about since I was six years old, and to have gotten to graduate with a degree in it and a job in it AND an even more intense passion for it than I had when I started. I cried when those four years were up, because I didn't want to be done. Lucky doesn't do it justice. 

Lucky to have (finally) gotten to celebrate all of that with my grandparents, who still flew halfway across the country in the middle of a global pandemic even though I didn't walk. The statue sums it up - I {LOVE} my family. They always show up. Nothing stops them. They're powerful people, and I'm lucky to share their bloodline. 

And as rough as Covid has been, new great things have grown from it. One of those things is spending weekday afternoons in greenhouses and gardens with my mama picking out plants and planning where they'll all go. There's a lot that houseplants can't fix... but there's also a lot that they can. Or so it seems, because very few things in the era of Covid-19 are as exciting as watching our plants grow new leaves. Lucky and grateful for that, too. 

I'm very lucky to have a sweet guy who surprised me with my favorite flowers from 400 miles away after a rough week at work, and left a voicemail reminding me that I'm strong and resilient when I told him I wasn't going to pick up the phone while I was crying. Lucky he listens so well. Lucky his laugh is contagious, lucky he's patient, lucky he lets me love him back. 

And I'm lucky that this is me. I'm lucky to have the jobs I have, and lucky to get to do them with good people. I'm lucky to have family, both by blood and the strangers I've built irreplaceable bonds with. I'm lucky to have a place of my own to come home to at the end of the day, regardless of what the day brings. I'm lucky to have a lot of moments that are so good I sometimes wonder if this is real.

I will not lie to you - there have been plenty of days when "lucky" couldn't have been further from how I felt. It hasn't been all love and light and laughter. I've had to remove people from my life. I've run out of rooms crying. I spent as much on car repairs this year alone as I did when I paid for the car to begin with. Almost everything I was looking forward to this year was cancelled. I lost a job. I broke a rib. I moved out overnight with almost no money and no plan for where I'd go. I went out of my way for people who hurt me and left me feeling like I was wrong for being myself. I've learned the hard way to set my standards and to stick to them or settling for pain becomes the only other option. I've spoken my mind and watched as people have turned their backs on me right after. 

I've been through it. Whatever "it" is. I've been through a lot of it - and I know I'm not the only one. The more important thing is everything I've learned from it. 

1. If they really love you, they'll listen. Speak your truth.

2. Nobody can give you power, and nobody can take your power away.

3. Blessings sometimes hide. Keep an eye out for them.

4. All you can do is your best, and sometimes doing your best means resting.

5. Healing isn't easy and it isn't impossible, either.

6. Discomfort is a breeding ground for growth.

7. Ask for help when you need it and disregard anyone who makes you feel like you're weak for that.

8. Put your phone down and pay attention. 

9. Recognize that you always have room to improve. 

10. If you aren't being authentic, you are wasting your time. Stop trying to be like them. They've got their own battles. Be like you. 

11. It isn't selfish to walk away from people, jobs, or any other circumstances that aren't serving you. It's self-respect to a heroic level. 

12. Things will get better. And then they'll get bad again. But then they'll be even better than they were. Pain isn't permanent, and pleasure isn't either. You have to learn how to find value in all of it. Nothing in your life is set in stone. You are allowed to mess up... a lot. You're allowed to feel things. You're allowed to change your mind. You're encouraged to take risks. 

You are going to get stronger. You're here right now, after 7 months of navigating a global pandemic on top of everything you've ever had happen in your personal life. You're reading this, in this moment, and you've only gotten here because you've worked hard and been brave and because you haven't given up. 

I see you. I'm proud of you. 

I'm lucky to know you. 

I hope your heart is happy. 

I hope you're happy.