You hear people say: words are just words until you live them. And a word you hear a lot : fun. 

You’re not feeling well? Go have some fun. You’re tired? Do something fun.

If I knew how to do those, dammit, I’d be doing them now. I’m too this. I’m too that. I can’t the “whatever” figure out how to have that stupid blasted fun. What is fun anyway????

And then spring comes. It’s no longer black and white outdoors. And the darn bright yellow daffodils start poking out of the ground. Silent. No words. Not saying anything. Not telling you to be a better person. Or to be happy. Or be this. Be that.

Just being yellow. And darned if they aren’t irresistible. And darned if you don’t find yourself picking those bright colors.

And without realizing it, you slowly realize: WHAT? I’m – yes – I’m having fun. Not even trying. Doing nothing.

Just loving color. Feeling it. Feeling the fun.