Why?

One time a good friend of mine Ray R. Foote, who with a name like that should be an apostle, gave a talk about procrastination (I think that was the topic). He mentioned that he likes to long board and that it makes him really happy, but that he hadn't done it in a while and when he finally did go for a ride, he wondered why he hadn't been doing it more often. I have been wondering the same thing as of late. Why is that we put off the things we love? If you really love doing something and it makes us happy, then why don't we do it as often as we can? I'm not saying like "I love spending a ton of money on appliances, I should do it more often", I'm talking about simple things like me for instance; I like working out, and I like how I feel afterwards, but why do I choose to sit at home and be bored instead of driving the 2.5 miles to the gym? Or, the one that really started me on this thought train was Norah Jones. I love her. Why did I ever stop listening to her? I love what music does to us as humans. A certain song can bring back nostalgic memories, it can take us back in time, it can make us feel, and make us love, and make us something other than our boring everyday selves. For example, Norah Jones. I love her. When I was 18 I bought a Norah Jones CD "Come Away With Me", which I think is her best CD. I have a very specific memory about that CD, and whenever I hear a song from it, I feel instant happiness. It's a pretty innocent memory so I don't mind sharing it with you, you'll probably think it's silly. It was a Sunday and Elise and I were driving in my brother's old '95 Dodge 2500 with the windows down, and Norah playing. We took a drive through the pecan orchards. It was probably September, not quite fall here in LC but so close you could smell it. We just drove and listened to Norah and I was happy. I even remember what I was wearing. I also think of Love Actually, my favorite movie, my wedding, and deep earth shaking love. I love her. Why did I ever leave her? I don't understand why we do this, and how we keep ourselves from doing it. Is it because our lives have become so full of stuff that we forget about the simple things? We go to work, we come home, we cook dinner, we watch mindless hours of TV, and we go to bed, only to repeat the mundane all over again tomorrow. Is it because we are so busy that we have forgotten how to stop and smell the roses? Well I'm not going to do it anymore. I'm going to stop and smell every single rose, so that on my deathbed when they ask, "Do you have any regrets?" I won't say "I wish I listened to Norah more" or "I wish I long boarded more" or "I wish I had taken Ribeye for more walks" or "I wish I had gotten my money's worth out of my gym membership".