If I Had My Life to Live Over

If I Had My Life to Live Over . . .

Steve had a house in Vermont. I recall him sharing me a poem (perhaps this one) about stopping to smell the roses.

That had a profound effect upon me. I knew I was not going to be great or written about in history books. I wanted, rather, to enjoy life.

My issue, it seems, is that I look at all the things I’ve done and I see a lot of fabulous experiences, but I know in the moment, they were not as fabulous as they should have been because I can’t just let go.

All these years later, I still need to pick more daisies.

Also blogged on this date . . .

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