Being lost

I am not quite sure when my love affair began. Stuck in Vino Volo, on my way to Paris, I began working on the weekly flower order. Between flights (of wine) I carefully chose the flower vignettes - all on an excel spreadsheet. I tried to focus on numbers, forecasts and budgets but colour stories danced in my head impatient to be heard and translated, later, by my hands.

Like many things you secretly love, you deny their importance. Brush off their quiet charm. Distracted by something that demands your attention. It's easy to do if you're not careful. It's not until they're gone do you realize how much they're missed.

I got an email this morning from one of our growers about the order I'd placed. "Astrantia season finished. Sub?" I was lost; there was no substitution for this tiny flower that is both complex and playful. Its colours drawing you in. If you stopped. For a moment. And looked.

And just like that my love affair with work came to an abrupt halt. A quiet, unexpected death. I had spent the whole year racing from meetings to weddings to emails and on line night classes that I was missing out on the very things I love.

Call it age, call it wisdom, call it what you like but there is rarely a replacement for what makes you truly happy, just temporary distractions.  So stop and smell the roses or the coffee or whatever the heck it is that makes your eyes smile.  Make love while you still can, laugh until your sides hurt, look up from your work long enough to see the sun setting.  Your inbox will still be there. But most of all be present and grateful in each moment of each day. One day when you least expect it, it will be your last.  ,,,njb