Let There Be Flowers (Even in the Dishwasher)

On Choosing Joy, One Teacup at a Time

There’s something quietly radical about choosing joy.

Not the grand, cinematic kind, but the everyday kind. The kind that lives in the chipped rim of a teacup or the soft clink of a petal-painted bowl pulled from the dishwasher.

Lately, I’ve been surrounding myself with things that make me happy.

Not for show. Not for guests. Just… for me.

The Crockery Revolution

It started small. A new mug, lilac, in the shape of a tulip. Then a plate that a small fae would be happy to eat off of. Then another. And another.

Until one day, I looked around and realized:

I had quietly declared war on the plain white plates.

And I was winning.

I swapped out almost everything.

Each bowl now blooms.

Each cup feels like it holds more than tea, like it holds a moment, a softness, a choice.

Why It Matters

People talk about romanticizing your life like it’s some kind of luxury. But for me, it became a survival strategy.

There are so many things we can’t control.

So many “big things” that feel heavy and hard.

But this? This I could do.

I could eat cereal from a plate that looked like a garden.

I could sip coffee from a mug that reminded me that beauty doesn’t need permission.

A Life in Bloom

I don’t think joy has to be earned.

I think it can be chosen, quietly, every day, even when everything else feels uncertain.

Sometimes joy is just a cupboard full of flowers.

Sometimes it’s drinking your spearmint tea from a rose-rimmed mug because it makes you feel like your ancestors are watching over you.

And sometimes, it’s letting yourself love the smallest things without apology.

So yes, I swapped all my crockery for flowers.

And no, I’m not going back.

Not when it makes my mornings feel like poetry and my leftovers feel like art.

Let there be flowers, I declare with pride, on my plates, in my home, and always, always in my heart.

And as always,

With Love,

Eleanor