Joy Doesn't Trickle Down—It Rises Up.

Here's how we can have more of it.

Yesterday, I apologized to the weed growing in my feral flower bed for trying to rip her out of my garden. I found out she is actually a nutritional and medicinal powerhouse. And the third biggest food source for local pollinators.

Meet Bidens Pilosa… a wild wonder that appeared in my feral garden beds this summer.

Sometimes, we don’t recognize the true value of things until we know their name and the stories they carry.

I think the same is true for people.

I am online more than most. It’s an occupational hazard. I hear the stories. Read the comments. My ear pressed to the ground… and, I don’t have to tell you, it’s a lot.

I see so many posts that share how the world feels dark, like joy has been sucked out of it by the current events at hand.

And I get it. I feel it too.

But in times like these, joy doesn’t trickle down—it rises up.

One of the biggest lessons I learned from my years in South Sudan was the incredible importance of joy lived in community.

Not as an escape from hard things but as the act of building resilience within them.

So, as my plan to move to MN is temporarily paused, I’m turning my cottage and yard in a commercial district in Florida into a micro homestead. I’m calling her Meadowland Cottage.

Just in time for fall planting.

In north Florida, we basically have 3 growing seasons. Spring, autumn, and winter. August is when we plant for fall and start prepping for winter greens.

I’m planting sweet potatoes, tomatoes, beans, kale, chard, turnips, beets, strawberries, and various medicinal and culinary herbs.

For as long as I’m here, I might as well grow as much of my food as I can. Plus, gardening is my cardio. 💪🏻

Sometimes we wait until we get to the right spot to live the dream when the dream is waiting on us to practice living it right where we are.

Plus, my pigeon peas are getting close to flowering. I wouldn’t want to miss that.

There is something that happens when you eat the food you grow. Or learn how to make something from scratch. It’s magical.

And there’s no more intentional practice than finding wonder where you are, smack-dab in the face of deep uncertainty.

Honestly, I think we need a joy revolution. Unreasonable, indomitable, unrelenting, unstoppable joy.

I’m not talking about toxic positivity. Or turning a blind eye to pain. Or ignoring reality. Or oversimplifying the complex issues at hand.

I’m talking about a joy that is real, relevant, rooted, and responsive.

Joy isn’t a luxury. It’s a lifeline.

Joy is the brave act of remembering what’s worth fighting for and reimagining a better tomorrow.

Indulge me for just a moment... Welcome to my brain and the things I think about when I should be sleeping.

All light has to do to change everything is show up. There is no darkness that can put out one single flickering flame of light.

In the divided landscape of the online world, it can feel so isolating.

So what if we just decide… nah. Let’s kick it up a notch. I’m going to invite my neighbor or someone I know to have coffee in real life.

What if every neighborhood had a local joy club?

A gathering where a few people get together to read books or knit or make things or learn water bath canning or figure out ways to make sure one less person is hungry on your block… just for the joy of it.

No algorithms. No breaking news. Phones on silent.

Joy isn’t handed down from power or privilege—it bubbles up from belonging, from connection, from beauty, from the inside out. It is grassroots, gut-level, wonder-fueled resilience.

We don’t wait for permission to live fully. We grow our joy from the ground up—in kitchens and gardens and sketchbooks.

Think scouts meets a cozy tea picnic meets a laid-back book club meets a garden party meets local community involvement meets your favorite brunch group.

I’m so curious… if there was something available that made this super easy and not intimidating, would you be interested? If there were easy resources like a starter kit to gather with 2-3 other people, would you consider trying out something like this?

I’ve been dreaming about ideas for a while now… about ways to see real relationships and community built at the hyper-local level that could be as creative and diverse as the people who gather in them.

Circles that spark creativity, courage, and compassion in action.

I look forward to hearing how this idea lands for you! Click the button to share in the comments.

All my love,