Smell the Roses -- Blow Out the Candle

Life is short.  There’s no two ways around that.  Sure, there are things that live shorter lives than we do, and conversely there are creatures that live longer.  But all in all?  Life is short.  And every moment of it is precious.

The other day I got a chance to go and visit John’s Papa Tom in the care facility before he was taken back to the hospital.  I couldn’t tell you if he was happy to see me, but I was glad to see him.  I got a chance to tell him that I love him, listen to him chat with his daughters about things that were important to him, and see that he was doing the best that he could.  As we were walking out, John’s mom was talking to Aunt Mary about what they’d been doing with him during physical therapy, and one of the things she mentioned stuck with me:

Smell the roses—blow out the candle.

It was part of a breathing exercise that, at the time, rather amused me, but as I thought about it more, I realized that it had significance apart from its amusement value.  Sure, it was meant to induce breathing in and breathing out, but those images—the thoughts provoked by those words, are laden with importance that far outweigh their intended purpose.

We talk about taking time to smell the roses—an idea that means we should slow down and enjoy the little things that are going on all around us.  It’s a phrase that evokes a beautiful picture of roses, gardens, summer suns, autumn skies—the whole gamut of life buzzing around us that created a perfect moment.  Breathing in all that life is important; it makes us who we are and shapes who we are going to become.

And then there is the idea of blowing out the candle—of marking the end of something and the beginning of something new.  We blow out the candles when we’re ready to be done with something or when we’re making a wish on a birthday cake.  Blowing out that candle can leave us in the dark, but it leaves us open to discovering something new.

Just as that image is meant to make us think of breathing out, it reminds us of those birthday cakes and days when the power went out, or that moment when we decided that we were done with that oh-so-needed relaxing bath.  It marks the end of something, but even so, it marks a new beginning, too.  It allows us to let go of the past and be ready to take in that next breath.

After binge watching all of the Gilmore girls, I realized how much fear can play a role in our lives, too—how easy it is to forget to breathe and reflect on who we are and where we’re going.  And how difficult it can be to confront that fear of the next breath—change.  We get comfortable in a rut, and inertia is a difficult task master to put off.

But life is too short to be afraid of changes.  We need to smell the roses AND blow out the candles—otherwise we’re not really living at all.  We’re just passing the moments by and hoping the darkness will never find us.  We’re holding our breath until we turn blue and die.

So don’t be afraid of breathing in and breathing out—of smelling the roses and blowing out the candle—of being open to changes.

That, after all, is what life is all about.