happiness for me

It didn’t hit me like the tidal wave, or tsunami I expected It would be.

When I was a kid It was always fleeting, just a single moment.

Each time it came I held It so delicately,

keeping the sparkler at arm's length -

scared to get too close.

Mesmerizing,

beautiful,

alive,

and then -

a puff of smoke.

It was a pit; deep, dark, nothingness.

As a child, the only tools I had were my hands. So, I would try to scoop up the dirt, and with each intentional decision I made, I threw two handfuls of dirt into my pit.

No matter how many sparklers I tried to collect, the pit remained bottomless.

Sparklers? Light? Futile.

Sometimes, a huge mechanical claw would reach down from above me and scoop up from the pit. I'd have to start all over again.

Sometimes I didn't feel like it.

Sometimes, there was more to do than when I first began this process.

Scoop after scoop, along the way, I began to develop better tools.

Progress was gradually easier, until the pit was full.

The pit is now an empty plot.

But still, there must be something more don't you think?

I sat on my plot and pondered it.

Sometimes, I thought I ought to start digging the dirt up because there was nothing else to do.

Seeds! I decided I should plant seeds.

The thing is though: trees, plants, and things - they can take a long time to grow.

When I was a kid life was about surviving, not thriving.

Try as I might, the sparkler would inevitably go out.

With a sinking feeling I would return to that pit.

Each decision made,

Each plan laid,

Each step onward,

Have brought me to this moment.

I look around me to see, while I was lost in thought: the plot?

The plot has grown trees with leaves, plants with flowers, and a beautiful ground of green.

Happiness for me, wasn't the tidal wave I'd always expected it would be.