I am Guilty of Rushing through Conversations but will stop for Flowers

Yesterday, I read a friend’s blog about conversations.  A given conversation, my friend pointed out, may be perfunctory and not particularly meaningful.  On the other hand, the same conversation might develop into something decidedly informative, in-depth, and meaningful.  As we participate in conversations, we direct where the conversation goes.

The thought struck me that I often rush through routine conversations.  At meetings of any sort, I tend to push to stay on agenda.  If I bump into someone while “on a mission” to retrieve something or finish a task, I may take a moment to engage in pleasantries, but after a minute or so, I will take a few steps away as I speak to signal my intent to break from talking.  On occasion, I interrupt other people when they wander off to the North Pole of conversation when we were originally heading south.

Place a flower in my path, though, and I will fully stop to investigate.  Show me a cluster of blossoms with a hint of red and I may poke at it for several minutes.  A field of blue flowers might delay me for an hour.

In the presence of flowers, my mind will begin to churn with curiosity and admiration.  If I could talk with flowers, I would immediately begin with questions:  “What is your name?  Are you native to this area?  Do you have cousins I might know?  Are you perennial?  Do you have poisonous roots?  How well do you like the sun?”

I am not fully certain why I make such allowances of time for flowers.  Maybe something about all the power and life and beauty there in one package.  Perhaps I should have been born a bee.       

--Mitchell Hegman