Yesterday’s post was the culmination of 9 years of writing on this blog. During my first year of attempting to write something every day, I came across a story called “The Daffodil Principle.”
It was the story of a mother whose daughter badgered her to go see the daffodils. She finally did it. Here’s the rest of the story.
Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me, lay the most glorious sight.
It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.
‘Who did this?’ I asked Carolyn.
‘Just one woman,’ Carolyn answered. ‘She lives on the property. That’s her home.’ Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.
On the patio, we saw a poster. ‘Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking’, was the headline.
The first answer was- ‘50,000 bulbs,’ it read.
The second answer was, ‘One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain.’
The third answer was, ‘Began in 1958.’
For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration. And she created not for others, but for herself, for the nature, for her surroundings.
That is, learning to move toward implementing our vision and dreams – one step at a time, often just one baby-step at a time and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things.
‘It makes me sad in a way,’ I admitted to Carolyn. ‘ What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty five or forty years ago and had worked away at it ‘one! bulb at a time’ through all those years? ‘Just think what I might have been able to achieve!’
My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. ‘Start tomorrow,’ she said.
There is no better time than right now to be happy. Happiness is a journey, not a destination.
The story nicely illustrates what I set out to do.
9 years done. 31 to go (hopefully!). :)