I’m trying to curb the habit of apologizing. (gasp) I know. I know. Apologies are menders, fixers, peace-makers. I agree. But sometimes we apologize not because we’ve done something wrong, but because we’re different or seen as odd or strange. Sometimes we (I) live in an apologetic mindset because we don’t value who we are and what we are drawn to. We don’t value what we”bring to the light” in this dark world.

So, I’m learning not to apologize  for getting lost in a moment, a song, or a vision of something really beautiful, like roses. So I guess what I’m really trying to do is curb the habit of devaluing the beauty hunters. (It’s a real thing.)

If I analyze what I really believe…what I really feel?

I feel sorrow when we tell and believe our own lies by saying “I don’t have time to ‘stop and smell the roses’.  I feel sorrow that the currency of TIME and MONEY are at war. They both shout that they are the greatest value and the greatest equalizer. Which one is it? I mourn every day we believe it’s the dollar.

I feel sadness that the energy of “good” doesn’t get the celebrity status and limelight like the bad. I blink a little harder and longer in these moments. I know that going to sleep should not be better than being fully awake, but that’s how it makes me feel…tired. Yes, this makes me sad.

I feel confusion for us when we believe that the only way to “make it” in this world is to choose a life of complexity instead of a life of simplicity. The stressful drive to the office, the “work” that never waits, should never be valued more than the people we love, the family vacation to the beach, the touch of love. I am confused when we think these things might validate us. Things have never had that power. I wish I knew it sooner.

I feel my “ire” rise when drama-laden words fly; when stinging, witty cut-downs, and petty mud-slinging becomes a symbol of strength. When did the norm shift? Why do we idolize hatefulness rather than listening to the bird that is singing to our souls? We miss so much.

I don’t know why. But I know what I must do. I must feel it all, and then feel joy.

I must let myself feel the extreme joy of the beauty. Sure, I could apologize or blame.

“The roses made me do it.” Or maybe I chose it willingly.