From the time I was a little girl being in the garden or smelling a bouquet of fresh flowers has brought me pure joy. The kind of joy that sinks so deep inside of you, it plants itself and never leaves. I spent most of my childhood playing outside collecting all the beautiful things nature has to offer. Filling my hands with dirt, sticking my nose in a blossoming magnolia or running my bare feet across a fresh covering of moss. This was my heaven. Every summer I would go back to the same places where I could find wild sweet peas growing or endless patches of forget me not’s. These were the simple joys that called to me.

As I grew older these simple pleasures began to get pushed aside by my need to be sensible and productive. I chose to work towards a degree that would provide a job. I married. I worked. I paid bills. I felt… nothing. Until, the moment I got a whiff of fresh soil or held a cut flower in my hand. That joy that was planted so deep inside of me would sprout up and I would feel alive.

Each time these little pangs of joy knocked at my heart it became harder to ignore. I began to work in my garden as much as possible, I would bring fresh flowers home just to rearrange them through out the week. These moments brought me joy even in times when things seemed hopeless. I knew there was something to this.

I remember reading somewhere that you should pay attention to what makes you cry. If watching someone race across a finish line brings a tear to your eye, you might want to go out and buy some running shoes. A few years back, on a day I was not feeling so joyful, I was sitting on a bench feeling the weight of all my life choices. When a little girl came up to me with a little flower she had picked from the ground and said this is for you. That same spot my joy had been planted was now flooded with grief and gratitude. My eyes filled with tears and I knew what I had to do.

I began to enroll in some local design classes. I filled my house with cut flowers. Sometimes I would leave an arrangement on a friend’s doorstep. In these small acts I began to grow my joy into something worth sharing. People may take notice if you are good at what you do but people are affected when you do it with joy. Part of giving back to this world is finding that place deep inside where your joy is planted. You must grow it and tend to it. Finally, you must share it. So others can recognize what joy looks like and maybe even find theirs.

Author: Meaghan Lemon

Meaghan is the Owner and Designer of Evelyn Loves Lemon, a floral design company dedicated to creating original and thoughtful design for personal events, home, or business. She has had the privilege to study wedding and event design with some of the most creative designers the world has to offer, such as the Zita Elze Design Academy in London, England—the epicenter for floral design education. As a designer, she feels it is important to bring beauty and originality to each design, which is unique and created with each individual client in mind.

Born and raised in Metro Detroit, she is currently providing designs for clients in the Southeastern Michigan region, as well as being available for destination events upon special request.