I set out to run, putting one determined foot in front of the other. It’s hard, as my breath gets shorter and shorter, but I must push on. And I go on my route for the run, breathing in and out, listening to the rhythm of my body. It is a beautiful afternoon as the sun shines and my muscles remember their place.
Along the way I pass a wall of honeysuckle, their fragrance reaches me almost a block before I see them. And I am reminded of a sweet childhood memory of my first taste of honeysuckle. The boy next door, who was my best friend and playmate, told me about these fragrant flowers and the nectar you could eat. I didn’t believe him and told him he was lying.
Eager to prove the truth, he took me to a huge bush full of these wonderful flowers, took one apart of ate the drops of nectar. “Try it,” he said smiling. I did and they were delicious. There we stood, for a long time, laughing and tasting the flowers. Such a wonderful childhood memory. And I breath in deeply as I pass the bush on the running route now.
I keep running, until my legs are weak and I can go no further. I must slow down. Panting, barely able to breath, I start to walk, still smelling the delicious honeysuckle that is now behind me. And when I catch my breath, and my legs are recovered a bit, I start to fun again.
And it is that way with life. We go, we strive, we work, until we can go no more. And we rest. We play, we laugh. And then we start back up again, after catching our breath. Along the way, we have sweet memories and people to help us, to remember what is important.