Your Pot of Gold is Closer than You Think 💰

At the beginning of each of my monthly walk-and-talk gatherings, I like to offer a question. It helps avoid the usual getting-to-know-you questions like What do you do? Where do you live? How many kids do you have? Those have their place, of course.

But when we begin from a more thoughtful starting point, something shifts. The conversation becomes more honest. More alive. More revealing in the best way.

It transforms these walks into a meaningful space—part movement, part conversation, part reminder we are not meant to figure life out alone.

This week, with St. Patrick’s Day near, I added a playful twist.

I asked: If you had a pot of gold accessible every day—endlessly refillable—but it wasn’t money or actual gold, what would you fill it with?

It’s the kind of question that makes people laugh at first.

And then, if they let themselves stay with it, it becomes something else entirely.

When a Playful Question Becomes a Mirror

My answer came to me while we were walking past a community mural filled with flowers.

Not just any flowers—bold ones. Unusual ones. Colorful ones. The kind that makes you stop and stare for a second.

I realized that if I had an endlessly refillable pot of gold, I would fill it with fresh-cut flowers.

Unique arrangements. Mostly simple, sometimes extravagant. Bouquets I could build with my own hands on some days, and on other days, I’d let the magical pot surprise me with something beautiful. When the blooms faded, I’d return them to the pot for recycling and, after a brief waiting period, pull out something fresh again.

Even in my imaginary answer, I noticed something important: I wouldn’t want endless beauty with no pause. I would need a little space between bouquets so I wouldn’t stop noticing them. So I wouldn’t take them for granted.

That detail stayed with me.

Because sometimes what we long for most isn’t just the thing itself. It’s the relationship we want to have with it. Beauty. Delight. Appreciation. Presence.

And that’s true for so much more than flowers.

What the Women Chose

As the women walked in pairs, their answers unfolded.

One woman said, Puppies!

A pot full of puppies she could take out and play with whenever she wanted—without the responsibility of feeding them, house-training them, or cleaning up after them. It was funny, yes. But it was also honest. What she wanted wasn’t really a pile of puppies. She wanted joy, comfort, playfulness, companionship, and delight without added burden.

Several women said, Time.

Time appearing on their calendars to do the things they long to do—travel, visit state parks, go on little adventures, explore life instead of always organizing it. Not more productivity. Not more obligations. Spaciousness. Freedom. Room to breathe.

One woman said she would fill her pot with encouraging notes.

Notes she could pull out exactly when she needed them. Words of comfort. Direction. Reassurance. Something wise and loving waiting for her on the hard days, the uncertain days, the days when self-doubt gets loud.

And truly, what a beautiful answer that was.

Because beneath that desire wasn’t weakness. It was a longing to feel supported. Seen. Strengthened. Reminded.

Why This Matters

Sometimes a whimsical question reveals what a practical life has been trying to keep hidden.

Many women in midlife have spent years being responsible, capable, efficient, and needed. We become so well-practiced at managing what is required that we lose touch with what we desire.

Not always dramatically.

Sometimes it happens quietly.

We stop naming what we want because it feels impractical. Or selfish. Or impossible. Or like too much to ask for. We dismiss the desire before we ever let it fully form.

But desire has information in it.

It tells us something about what we miss. What we need. What we are hungry for. What beauty, freedom, tenderness, play, rest, encouragement, or meaning may be missing from the life we’re currently living.

And if we never tell the truth about what we want, we can’t move toward it.

A Better Way to Think About It

At the end of our walk, I shared something simple.

While we were pretending and imagining, every one of those pots was available in some form.

Not necessarily in the exact magical way we described them.
But in some form? Yes.

The woman who longed for encouraging notes? There are card decks, devotionals, journals, and practices that could make that real. She could create her own encouragement ritual. She could gather words that steady her and keep them where she can reach them. She could even bravely ask a loved one for words of encouragement for the week ahead.

Give yourself permission to ask for what you desire.

The woman who wanted puppies without full-time responsibility? Maybe her pot looks like volunteering at an animal shelter. Maybe it looks like walking dogs, fostering occasionally, or spending time around animals in a way that fits her life.

The women who wanted more time for adventures? That may not require waiting for someday. It may begin with one afternoon blocked off on the calendar. One state park. One day trip. One intentional choice that says, My life is not only for managing. It is also for living.

Even my pot of flowers is not as far-fetched as it first sounds. Maybe not magical, but possible. A standing flower budget. A local flower subscription. A practice of buying one unusual stem at the market. A small way of bringing beauty into ordinary days.

This is where intention enters the story.

Not pressure. Not hustle. Not forcing.

Intention.

The kind that begins by telling the truth.

The kind that says, This is something I want.
This matters to me. I may not know the full how yet, but I’m willing to honor the desire instead of dismissing it.

A Simple Practice or Next Step

Here’s a question for you:

If you had an endlessly refillable pot of gold—and it couldn’t be money—what would you place inside it?

Don’t answer too quickly.

Sit with it for a moment.

Let yourself move beyond what sounds sensible and into what feels true.

Then ask yourself:

• What does this answer reveal about what I’m longing for?
• What feeling, experience, or need is underneath it?
• What version of this might be possible now?
• What is one small way I could begin?

You do not need to build the whole bridge today.

You only need to stop pretending you don’t want to cross it.

What Gets in the Way

Of course, this is often the hardest part.

Because once we admit what we want, we also have to face what has been stopping us.

Sometimes it’s fear.
Sometimes it’s guilt.
Sometimes it’s the old belief that our wants are optional, indulgent, or inconvenient.
Sometimes it’s the habit of dismissing ourselves before anyone else gets the chance.

And sometimes it’s simply this: we’ve lived so long in reaction mode that desire feels unfamiliar.

But naming a desire doesn’t make you selfish.

It makes you honest.

And often, speaking that desire to yourself—and maybe to one trusted other person—is the very thing that brings it into form. There is power in being witnessed. There is power in accountability that feels loving, not pressuring.

Midlife invites that kind of honesty.

Not because we suddenly get everything we want, but because we become more ready to stop abandoning ourselves.

What to Remember

Your pot of gold may not fall from the sky.

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t available.

Sometimes it arrives as a decision.
Sometimes as a practice.
Sometimes as a calendar entry.
Sometimes as a conversation.
Sometimes as a tiny beginning that feels almost too small to matter.

But small things matter.

That’s how we build a meaningful life.

A handful of flowers.
A note of encouragement.
An hour set aside.
A walk in the woods.
A brave admission.
A first step.

This is often how desire becomes reality—not all at once, but through attention, intention, and willingness.

An Invitation to Claim Your Desire

With St. Patrick’s Day around the corner, this is your invitation to think about your own version of a pot of gold.

Not the flashy kind. Not the fantasy you’re supposed to want.

The real one.

The one that says something tender and true about who you are and what you’re longing for in this season.

What would you put inside it?

And what small, loving step could bring a little of it into your life now?

You may be closer than you think.

More Questions to Consider

What does “pot of gold” mean in personal growth?
In personal growth, a “pot of gold” can be a metaphor for what you deeply long for—more beauty, time, joy, support, rest, freedom, or meaning. It helps you identify desires you may have pushed aside as unrealistic or unimportant.

Why is it hard for women in midlife to admit what they want?
Many women in midlife have spent years caring for others, meeting expectations, and focusing on responsibilities. That can make personal desires feel unfamiliar, impractical, or selfish, even when it points toward something deeply needed.

How can I create more of what I want in my life?
Start by naming the desire honestly. Then ask what the deeper need is underneath it and choose one small, realistic step toward it. Lasting change often begins with intention, not a dramatic overhaul.

Final Thoughts

Sometimes the most revealing questions are the playful ones.

They slip past our usual defenses and invite us to tell the truth.

And maybe that’s the quiet gift here.

Not that life becomes magical overnight.
But that we remember we are still allowed to want things.
Still allowed to imagine.
Still allowed to create lives with more beauty, meaning, and room to breathe.

In this season, that may be its own kind of gold.

And now, I’m off to the market for flowers!