Better to smell the roses late than never.

Dressed nice for my average business oriented day and walking to a meeting, I got a text from a friend that said, "You've seemed to be pretty busy recently, so I just wanted to remind you to not forget to stop and smell the roses every so often, so to speak." I laughed it off. But I wasn't laughing later as I rushed about trying to make deadlines, get to meetings, and make tough decisions. Someone told me they hated me today: that's a first. I made the decision to not see someone because that's what was best despite what I wanted: that's a first as well. So I did what I do best when I'm stressed out: I hopped on my bike and rode away. I wanted to leave it all on the pavement. All the busyness: on the pavement. All the rejection: on the pavement. All the heartbreak: on the pavement. All the anger: on the pavement. The past: on the pavement. I rode to beat the sun: I could see it beginning to set as I whipped onto the highway. Past the corn fields and hazelnut farms, the sprinklers and the factories. As the sky began to turn orange and the sun began to float down behind the hills I came to my destination: the heirloom roses. A massive sprawling rose garden jammed packed with every kind of wild, tea, climbing, and whatever other kind of rose you can think of. I leaned my bike against a fence post, walked over to a tall yellow rose bush, and stuck my nose into the fragrant petals of one its flowers. I took a moment to stop and smell the roses. Someone invited me to to go the beach and said they had forgotten to invite me until just then: better late than never, they said. And I figure that applies to a lot of things. Better to pursue my hobbies late than never. Better to demonstrate self control late than never. Better to take time for myself late than never. Better to do what's best late than never. And as I jumped back on my bike and the day began to come to a close with a pink and orange sky contrasting against bright green fields split with green sprinkler water, I figured it was better for me to take the time and smell the roses late than never. And hopefully the things in my life that plague me ferociously or silently in my soul will find restoration someday, and that too I figure will happen and it will be better late than never.

9/16/11

Photograph titled "Wild Roses" by PhotoBal on Flickr