Bringing Mae Flowers

I find myself wanting less as I get older.

It seems to be a common symptom of growing maturity, learning the true value of things. The more you see and experience, the more context you have to assess your life and circumstances. If you are lucky, that perspective will help carry you through seasons of want, and help you flourish in seasons of plenty. You can learn what you need to help your garden grow, and which plants are worth tending, so you can pull the weeds that threaten to strangle your happiness.

I used to dream of a bigger life.

Though I didn’t crave fame or riches, I dreamed of the more attainable success and wealth of the “American Dream”. I wanted to “be somebody” and “have something”, even though I didn’t know who I wanted to be or what I wanted to have. I wanted people to see the rewards I reaped, and admire the fruits of my labors. I thought the only way I could prove my worth was to show the world that the seeds I had sown brought in a bountiful harvest. So, I sought out more profitable fields.

But what’s profitable is rarely what’s nourishing.

I’ve never been rich, but I have enjoyed a comfortable level of financial security over the last few years. This is an immense privilege that I will not deny, especially as I have spent most of my life on the wrong side of the poverty line. In fact, it was my fear of slipping back into poverty that made crave more. No matter how hard I worked, how far I got, or how much I had- it wasn’t enough. I needed to climb another rung on the corporate ladder, get another digit on my paycheck, and save more for a rainy day “just in case”. I soon found myself working all the time, and for what? I wasn’t enjoying any of the fruits of my labor because I didn’t have the time or energy to. I tried to convince myself that all the work was worth it by dreaming of the “Someday”. The problem was that instead of chasing “someday” down, I was chasing it away.

My “someday” was already in reach.

The more I thought about the life that would bring me the most joy and fulfilment, the more I realized that it was a life I could already have. The more comfortable I became with myself, the less I cared about the attention and praise of other people. I more I learned about my own wants and needs, the less I cared about other people’s opinions about what I should have. In fact, I found that the more I loved myself, the less I wanted or needed anything at all. Though I do still love fancy latte at a good cafe, a good book, and a soft sweater- I don’t feel like I need any of those things to be happy. My “Someday” is a comfortable home surrounded by loved ones. It’s days spent in creative productivity, and evenings spent in tranquillity. My “someday” isn’t an impressive harvest from a rich field. My “someday” is a small blooming garden. And it’s already here.