Confessions of a Late Bloomer

If spring hasn’t exactly sprung here in eastern Iowa, it is at least making its slow way here:  we’ve “sprung” forward into daylight savings time, most of the snow has melted, and daytime temperatures are routinely making it out of the 30s.  I am watching avidly for the crocuses to appear on neighboring lawns, a sure sign that spring is here to stay. 

I believe it was George Eliot who said, “It is never too late to become what you might have been.”  I take comfort in this thought because, friends, I am a late bloomer.  Like a shy spring, I sometimes move forward at what feels like a glacial pace.  But if it is truly “never too late”, then it must follow that another axiom is true as well — better late than never.

For example, with this blog I’ve learned that it is never too late to overcome shyness about others reading what I write.  After 30+ years of writing in secret (diaries and journals), it has been a revelation to learn that I enjoy the reactions and feedback of those who read my words — I even appreciate the occasional critique! 

Another example:  for a long time I have believed the notion that the energy we extend to the world around us is what comes back to us.  But, as with many things I have believed in my head, I had a difficult time feeling it in my heart.  Better late than never, I have learned that the first step to feeling this truth is opening myself up to the people around me; sharing my time, talents, and treasures.

The truth about being a late bloomer is that I could have blossomed before now, but was holding back.  Fear, irrational beliefs, all the stuff that keeps us from potentializing allows us to remain in stasis.  And convince ourselves that is where we want to be.  Late bloomers are immature — or at least I have been — in the sense that we’re not growing at a reasonable, healthy rate.

One of my favorite quotes from a novel comes from Tom Robbins’ “Even Cowgirls Get the Blues”.  It goes, “Growing up is a trap!  When they tell you to shut up, they mean stop talking.  When they tell you to grow up, they mean stop growing.”   So, to all my fellow late bloomers: flower already!  It is never too late to become the rose (or daisy, or lily) you were meant to be.  Keep growing, stop “growing up”!  And if, like me, this is the first time you’ve found the courage to do these things, I say “Definitely, better late than never!”