It is true, no one but only you will understand

I am all about the small things. The everyday things that make me happy. Things like gardening, things like trying a new recipe (hopefully successfully), or maybe even find a variation while I am at it. If I am able to do all the tasks on my list that I set for the day, my happiness will be through the roof!

And most people don't get it. I remember one girl asked me, "How was your day?" I replied, "amazing." Then she added, "everyone that I asked about their day, ended up replying 'amazing'. I don't understand this reaction only." And I asked, "why?" to which she replied, " something really out of the ordinary has to happen for me to call my day amazing."

This small conversation made me realize how much she had put herself under pressure to meet the standards that she had made. She could have chosen to live the simple life, to do what she does, and master her craft while being sympathetic to herself, but she chose to be harsh to herself, to set teh bar high. Not saying that there is anything wrong with that. Just try not leave the good things out of focus.

I probably would have appreciated her high standards 3 years back, when I used to strive for perfection. But now, when I know the importance of action over perfection, I couldn't disagree with her more.

Hence my love for the simpler life. The thing that no one in my current surroundings understands. They all call me a child, they all assume that I live in a bubble that I am too scared to break out of to face the reality.

Reality meaning the part of the world that they prefer to see over all else. How is their perception of the world more important than mine, I never understood. Neither did I understand how is highlighting all the things that are going wrong a grown-up thing while choosing to see all the good things that the world has to offer childish. Isn't it a choice?

No one understands why I do what I do. No one understands my love for small things, my love for food, and my love for growing a part of my own food. Neither do they understand why I smile when I look at a healthy harvest. Why does that make me so happy.

It is my fault that I even expect them to try. It is on me to share the things that make me happy with people hoping that they might be as excited about it as I am. For they are not me. Everyone has a choice.

It is understandable. I get it. If they can't see things the way I do, neither can I how they do. If I am not wrong, neither are they. Guess we'll have to meet halfway.