Recently, I’ve been thinking about ways to bring more joy into my life. My children flew the coop years ago. One came back to perch for a few months during COVID, then moved on to start a new chapter of his own.

Now I find myself asking a quiet question: What brings me happiness besides the amazing gift of being a mom?

After some reflection, I realized something simple—and a little scary.

I am giving myself permission to fail… and perhaps, to succeed.

Of course, I don’t mean I want to be a failure in the life I’ve been given. I mean I need to be willing to try new things. I might be terrible at something. I might discover I’m surprisingly good at something else. Either way, it’s okay to try and fail. What isn’t okay is never trying at all… unless it’s bungee jumping. That, I can confidently skip.

So, I decided to start this blog. Will anyone read it? I don’t know. But writing brings me joy. If something brings me happiness, then even if no one else reads a word, I have still succeeded. When I’m happier, the people around me can feel it—positive energy has a way of spreading.

I’ve also decided to extend this journey beyond writing. I’m starting a YouTube channel and a Facebook page to share stories, reflections, and little moments of joy. It feels a bit daunting—what if no one watches or engages?—but the point isn’t instant popularity. It’s about giving myself the space to try, to experiment, and to share what brings me happiness. Just like with this blog, even small steps in creating something new can open doors to connection, laughter, and unexpected discoveries.

I learned how to cook out of necessity, and I failed more times than I can count. Burned a couple of things. Over-salted soups. Undercooked casseroles—well, I don’t really do casseroles. But by the time my children were growing up, I became pretty good at it.

Those meals made them happy. They made me happy. And the kitchen became a place of shared joy—kids wandering in to talk, trying to sit on the counter, sneaking a drink straight from the milk carton just to get a reaction. If I hadn’t been willing to fail at cooking, I might have missed all those sweet, fleeting moments.

I’m lucky to be surrounded by talented family and friends. One friend designs beautiful fabrics and now creates pajamas, notecards and journals from her work. A family member started a podcast about nature. Another friend paints incredible artwork. Someone else takes breathtaking photographs every day on her walks.

Each of these women gave themselves permission to try something new. Because they did, the rest of us get to enjoy their gifts.

So today, I’m giving myself permission to fail. Through trial and error, curiosity and courage, I hope to discover new ways to bring joy into my life.

Maybe that’s the real secret to happiness—not perfection, but permission.