The Victory Candle, part 2

I had a victory this week. A victory of an unexpected girth.
Not so long ago, I posted a question to my social media circle that ballooned with both productive and critical responses. I considered removing it multiple times, but I didn't because of stubborn commitment to myself. I didn't because I had done the very thing that several responses seemed to suggest I surely hadn't taken the time to do - answer the question for myself. Of course I had already carefully considered it. If I hadn't, I would have asked a different question. I would have asked how people would answer a question for me. Eventually, though, I accepted that people were compelled to try to solve my problem.  As a result, my love language came back to me.

I asked my circle:
If you needed to add $200 to your monthly income immediately without adding a third job or changing your job, how would you do it?

It was a real question I was trying to answer for myself.
I knew I would be stretched and inspired to think more deeply with the input of how others might tackle it for themselves. You know, like checking game slots for an unclaimed coin, looking into the corners of all the coexistent minds around me. Yet I found myself explaining a lot of reasons why their unsolicited suggestions for me didn't work for me, and that didn't feel good at all. One suggestion stumped me. It capitalized on a skill I possess, enjoy, and was reasonable as well as possible. I was initially confused why it didn't appeal to me.

And then I realized, this thing that I enjoyed was too sacred to me to turn into a profit. It was too sacred to turn into a profit because it respected my love language that makes me joyful to have the power of giving to others. It's because this thing, my garden, is my breathing space, my place to go for space and the one from which I can give freely and joyfully what I have grown there. To profit on this space felt wrong and defeating. And then....naming that was a kind of liberation. A victory of the highest kind. A solution within a problem. My unsuspecting victory.

As I packed up a couple lbs of tomatoes to take to work, I realized I could joyfully offer a couple of garden produce baskets to local friends for a fee. My victory.
 
Whereas I didn't think I could take my garden produce and sell it rather than give away what I had to spare because it would rob me of the joy that brings, I found that I could accept new parameters of joy. My victory.

And so, my question may not get answered,  and my problem may not be solved. So often what we ask is what we need - and we can benefit from needing to learn something else.