I’d pick more daisies, be thrown out of more places, have different friends

Nadine Stair. From Louisville, Kentucky, USA. That’s about all I could find out on Google. I stopped at 5 pages of search. Even tried Wikipedia. Nothing that I could see. But she’s responsible for a poem that’s lived with me for a long time now. A poem I find very difficult to live with. ‘I’d pick more daisies’.

It’s a beautiful piece of wisdom. Someone nearing the end of this journey called life, looks back and leaves some wisdom for people like me.

I say it’s difficult to live with, because I’d have to change some of who I am. Not all, just some. And if I did, what might happen? The poem calls for a little more of a care-free existence. A little looser around the edges. A little more irreverence. If I’m honest all of that gets my engines revving, and I know some people who’d suggest I live like that already. But what if I released the mechanisms that I have in place to make me more socially, business, family and friend acceptable?

And Nadine Stair has explored this question better than I. She knows the answer. And she has some pointers to get there:

If I had my life to live over,
I’d try to make more mistakes next time.
I would relax. I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have on this trip.
I would be crazier. I would be less hygienic.
I would take more chances, I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers, and watch more sunsets.
I would burn more gasoline. I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones.
You see, I am one of those people who lives prophylactically and sensibly and sanely, hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I have had my moments
And if I had it to do over again, I’d have more of them.
In fact, I’d try to have nothing else.
Just moments,one after another.
Instead of living so many years ahead each day.
I have been one of those people who never go anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat, and a parachute.

If I had to do it over again, I would go places and do things.
I’d travel lighter than I have.
If I had my life to live over, I would start barefooted earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.
I would play hooky more. I wouldn’t make such good grades except by accident.
I would ride on merry-go-rounds.

I’d pick more daisies!

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