I’m talking about roses, stopping and smelling the roses…my roses. They are in full bloom and glory right now. I hate these roses. In fact, every year I curse them and tell them I’m going to dig them up and feed them to the dump. Why, do you ask? Because they grow like crazy, attract every stinging insect in town and I’m constantly trimming them. When these roses first bloom in spring, however, they are beautiful. They are show stoppers, people stoppers, dogs-love-to-pee-on stoppers.
So, roses, I’m going to stop for a moment. I’m going to forget about school pick-ups, gym classes, laundry piles and bills. I’m going to forget how quickly overgrown you get and how prickly your thorns are. I’m going to look at you, smell you and take a deep breath. I’m going to clear my head and listen to you. I’m going to give thanks for you, for my craziness, for my bills, for my family, for my life. Thank you, roses, for helping me to slow down for a few moments and just be. Yes, birds and bees can do it and so can we.
Darn it. Now I’m late for the gym.