I was driving back and forth to work every day, past bushes laden with honeysuckles, always assuming that there would be a tomorrow in which to appreciate them. It suddenly dawned on me that it had been probably 30 years since I had tasted a honeysuckle, or actually felt their petals, or listened to the slight buzzing of life behind the leaves. I asked myself, “What have I been so busy doing, that I haven’t stopped to appreciate this world in 30 years?” I couldn’t give myself a satisfactory answer.
So now I tear open a fresh pomegranate to see the sweet rubies inside, or notice the beautiful isolation of a single sunflower by an empty field, or cheer on a caterpillar finding a place to become the chrysalis of change. I count the colors of sunsets, and listen to the secrets whispered by storms’ breeze. I share stories with children, and share my lunch with stray rabbits and cats. I check my mail barefooted to feet the dirt on my toes, and I carry snails across busy sidewalks. I stop to smell the roses, literally, because it’s more than just an expression.
There is no guaranteed tomorrow, but you always have today. Live in it.
–P.S. Honeysuckles taste as sweet today as they did in nostalgic memory.