a recipe for happiness, a throwback

by epi

i found this on my old blog (dated 2 Mar 2009) , and honestly didn’t want to lose it in all the newness:

so, here, a recipe for true joy:  

1.5 cup of starbucks 
6 miles of “run around the river”
a sprinkling of love texts to my girls
3 oz of dancing in my underwear
2 slices of writing a poem
1 mug of dark coffee with sugar and cream
1 empty canvas
3 paintbrushes
a bunch of paint
1 balcony at sunrise
4 hours of txting, skyping, calling Jake
about 300 random smiles to taste

directions: combine slowly or quickly into one deliciously chocolate girl with fro, shake, let simmer overnight, repeat as needed until joy is cemented in earlier mentioned fro-ed girls heart.
*note:  joy is better when spread.  so, when possible, double recipe and share with the world…


Sadness is an infectious disease. So is happiness. If I’m going to contagious… I’m choosing joy. Get it? That’s why. I’d forgotten. It’s because we can’t actually be anything we want. Not really. Society & nature makes some hard and fast choices for us. The “past us-es” makes some of those choices for the “now us-es”. But we can be joyful. Even in sadness I’m choosing JOY because I’m blessed and there’s no denying that. My heart is not my own because so many others hold parts and pieces of that, and I’m happy. I’ve made mistakes. There is a long and painful road ahead of me with a billion detours and segways and roadblocks and sometimes I will break down, but dammit, I CHOOSE JOY! Did you hear that world? Meet one of those lowly stupid ugly people you tried to bend and break. It worked, you know. You broke me. Or well, my shell. Underneath, I’ve found the thing God has been refining. He calls me beautiful. I am an ugly sinner, and He calls me beautiful. And I choose him. My joy. I am no longer ashamed of the gospel. My God is beautiful. And I am making a decision I will have to remake every day until I die. I choose joy. Part of me wants to cry now, not because this is an emotional moment (it is), but because I’m scared. It will be hard, and I will feel alone, and I will lose sight of God, and people that I thought loved me will leave me, and I might (or might not) find others along the way, but in the end, none of it matters. None of it will matter. I have joy. And suddenly I can see my future again. For the first time in a long time, I can see it and it looks like sunshine. I look happy, and as much as I have behind me, I can be happy again. I think the truth is that I had a choice, this whole time I had a choice I ddidn’t know about. I could live in my past failure, my hangups my mistakes, I could live with my screw-ups, or I could grow up. I mean ahead. WE spend our present living for the future or living for the past. Joy & my future. Choose joy.