There are so many roses, if only we stop to smell them

There are so many roses if only we stop to smell them.

When my father went ahead, it laid me out. After nearly thirty years of being busy and “hustling” for something or another, everything stopped. I had no choice but to stop, it was involuntary. I couldn’t help but stop.

And that, as weird as it sounds, was a gift. Because stopping, fully stopping, after my pops went ahead made me really thing. And I realized that I was living the way society expected me to - aspiring to be rich, powerful, and popular - instead of listening to my own heart. When I stopped to listen, my own heart was telling me that I wanted, more than anything, to be a good husband, father, and neighbor.

And when I stopped to listen to my own heart, the rest of my senses did something too. They helped me grasp, in full measure, the roses. Life’s roses. And there are so many roses. There are so many roses if we only stop to smell them.

There is the rose of marriage, and deep intimate relationships. There is the rose of new friendships, and rekindling old ones. There is the rose of children - our own and our nieces, nephews, and neighbors’ kids. There is the rose of learning, and really thirsting for knowledge and truth. There is the rose of peace, and prayer too.

And there are even everyday roses. Hot coffee. A good laugh paired with a good beer, amongst friends. A walk with our pup around the neighborhood. Family dinner. The same kiss goodnight, every night we can. A late night conversation about something important with someone you love. A stolen afternoon nap. Chocolate. These are all roses.

To be sure, stopping is scary. Pressing through boredom and being left in the dark tunnel of my own thoughts is downright terrifying, if I’m doing it right at least.  

But for me it’s been so worth it. Because after stopping, and wallowing in my own thoughts I learned to smell. And I began to see that there are so many roses, if only we stop to smell them.