You won’t have to ask me what my favorite flower is — you could guess by the lilacs I’ve planted on the main sides of my house. All different kinds, blooming at different times.
But it’s more than just a favorite. I’ve been in love with lilacs since I was a little girl.
I remember coming home from school, breathing in their scent, climbing fences just to get closer.
Almost every year, I catch the aroma of my tall lilac trees from my bedroom window.
Sadly, not this year. This year it was too cold to open the window when they bloomed.
Deeply buried in my work and personal projects, it was only yesterday that I noticed my tall lilacs had already faded.
I found myself asking, when did my lilac come and go?
Then the real question hit me: How come I didn’t notice?
Ironically, while studying mental health and wellbeing, I forgot — again — about myself and the little things I love. Too focused on reaching all my milestones, I realized I’ve been running like I’m in a marathon.
If you’re anything like me — deep in the middle of a marathon — don’t forget to take your water breaks. And, as a friend jokingly put it the other day, make sure you’ve got a crew of race fans at the finish line, passing out cups of water.
You’ll also need people on the sidelines, the kind who care enough to notice. Let them know you’re in the run to make up for lost time so they can remind you from time to time to slow down.
If there’s anything in this story that speaks to you, I’d love to hear it.
And above all, please make sure to stop and smell your kind of lilac. They vanish in a heartbeat and you’ll have to wait another year to see them and breathe them in again.