Wake up and smell the roses.

Listen to the Roses

“…Listen,

the heart-shackles are not, as you think,

death, illness, pain,

unrequited hope, not loneliness, but

lassitude, rue, vainglory, fear, anxiety,

selfishness.”

Their fragrance all the while rising

from their blind bodies, making me

spin with joy.”

                    Mary Oliver

                    From: When the Roses Speak, I Pay Attention

          I have one rose bush in my flower bed.  It is taller than I am and this year produced about fifteen blood-red, gigantic, and immensely fragrant roses.  They are fading now and the plant will rest for a while and then produce some more.  So sensible, this rose.  Mary Oliver’s roses talk to her.  They speak of matters of the heart in old fashioned, elegant language---vainglory, rue and lassitude.  These are not words we use much any more; they have given way to snobbery, regret, and fatigue.  But Mary’s roses are quite correct.

          My particular favorite of these is rue—regret, feeling sorrow for something done in the past, something unchangeable.  I come from a long line of remorseful people. If only…why didn’t I…the least I could have done…how I wish I hadn’t…sigh, sigh, sigh.  You can see how rue will steal every drop of energy you have to give.  It’s a true vampire.  This is the reason the twelve step programs tell their adherents to confess their wrong doings to at least one other person, and to make amends to whomever they have harmed when doing so would not harm them further.  That is why the Catholic Church still has confession and why millions of people are in therapy.  Remorse will steal all your joy if you let it.

          I like rituals.  Rituals are a good way of getting rid of baggage and freeing up some of the energy that is going into those life-sucking emotions.  For instance, write down whatever regret is on your heart.  Make a whole list of them if you need to.  Then burn the list, or give it a proper burial.  Bless it and send it on its way.  At some time in your life, rue may have served a purpose, but now it serves no one.  Let it go.

                              Keeping the faith,

                              Jane