Stop and Smell the Roses. No seriously, smell them.

I was in Spain a few weeks ago at an intense meditation course. I say intense because it was 12 hours a day of exploring states of consciousness. I was there for results. I mean the states of consciousness sounded swell but I needed a BANG! I wanted breakthroughs. I wanted to touch the face of God. I wanted to fly with unicorns and learn the language of mermaids. Spain was my mission of a lifetime.  Only, it did not work out that way. Instead, I lost my freaking mind. 

I was so fixated on results that I almost actually missed the “breakthroughs.” I was moody. Pouting. I didn’t speak Spanish, even though I studied it for nine years and spent a semester abroad in Spain. I was furious. I was raging! Everyone was irritating me. I had goals! I had a timeline! I had results!  

Oh, how absolutely silly of me.

I had reached my breaking point. It was Wednesday. We started an hour meditation in the morning. I began to cry. I gave up. I just didn’t care anymore. I was thinking how hard I worked at this. How badly I wanted it and for what? Nothing. And while I was crying in my little puddle of martyrdom and self-loathing there came this calm and tingly feeling. And then came an understanding. One of those once in a lifetime understandings. And it was simply this, stop and smell the roses. It was so clear that I actually started laughing. And crying. I laughed so much that I almost had to leave. And wouldn’t you know there was my breakthrough. To just stop and smell the roses. Stop. Stop thinking, obsessing, loathing, fixating, worrying, fearing about what is not succeeding, occurring, resulting, achieving! Stop. And smell the roses. Just inhale and smell. Life.

And that’s what I did. I smelled the roses. 

See, one of the reasons I laughed so hard was that everyday I would walk past these rose bushes. People would bend over and smell them. They would comment. They would swoon. And I thought in my moody way, “I’m not smelling stupid Spanish roses. I’m angry. I refuse to be a cliche and actually smell the roses. That’s for hippies. Besides, they are low and I can’t bend down because my hamstrings are tight, I am an American. I want them to be genetically modified to my height, wahhhhh.”  

But then, I smelled the roses. I bent down and actually smelled them.

Holy Mother of God. I kid you not, I have never in my life smelled roses like these. It was something out of a novel. It was as if in one smell I could touch the face of God, fly with unicorns, and learn the language of mermaids. It was like someone poured the most stunning perfume on them with sprinkle leprechaun smiles. They were the strongest, most enchanting smell I have ever encountered (besides the smell of victory).  

Had I kept to my bonehead ways and fixated on ridiculous results, I would have missed this breathtaking moment. I would have thrown it away to small mindedness. Hahahaha. The biggest EXPLOSION in life can happen with the simplest thing. How cool is that? Life is waiting for us.

Walk outside, take a deep breath, let the day melt away, bend over, and smell the roses. Feel the explosion. Repeat forever.