What Makes Me Happy

Lately, well, since the accident
and my mind turned to toast,
or as Mr W says, "porridge",
I'd sorta lost myself inside myself.

I've been at home alot.
Resting.
Alot.
And on strict orders by my neurologist to
"act like [I'm] on vacation."

A vacay in my house
is not my idea of a great vacation.
But, and here's the best part
if I hurt my head again,
in my doc's words,
it could be
and I quote:
"catastrophic."

Okay then.
SO I'm home.

I haven't been doing things
I love[d] doing before the accident.
The things I kept saying that if I ever had time to do
I would do--
nope, not those.
I have tow books that I've been putting together
but did you know that being a good writer
requires, like, 110% brain power + creativity.
Which, when your brain resembles toast
so that thinking about writing and typing as well,
is not condusive
can't be done without a good amount of frustration.
It takes forever to go over and over again
with spellcheck.

So I am not writing much these days,
as you may have noticed.

Left alone with my thoughts,
I started wondering where my happiness will come from now
in these frustrating days.
There have been no brilliant ah-ha moments
that I even feel mildly compulsed to share in writing.

This has made me sad.
I mean, to the bone sad.

What else is there? I asked to the heavens.
What makes me happy? I wondered in my heart.

Then the answer came.
And, what's weird is that I actually got the message
even with a brain full of porridge.
"Living the gospel makes you happy."

The answer filled my entire self with
peace and light.

It does.
Take away all other distractions
and at the core of who I am
way back there behind my talents and other pursuits,
living the gospel makes me happy.

I came across a blank Young Women's Personal progress book
laying on the desk
and I opened it as though I'd never seen one
and the thought came to me,
"Do this. It will make you happy."

So I am.