All her life, Mary Oliver gave us “instructions for living,” being aware, delighted because of it, and “telling about it.” That was her poetry, line after line. Mary Oliver is gone but how grateful I am that she lived and told us about it. I don’t know how many of her poems are in my... Continue Reading →
Pause and Repeat: Being By Roses
“Pause and Repeat” posts signal a break in blogging for me. Each time, the break is of its own specifics but mostly, it is just a pause, a moment away. The repeat is always a favorite previous post, this time, a Mary Oliver moment. Roses Everyone now and again wonders about those questions that have... Continue Reading →
What Better Thing to Do
Yesterday, Mary Oliver posted a bit of her poem, ” Mockingbirds,” on Facebook. The Atlantic featured it on April 30 as the poem of the day but as Oliver pointed out, a poem can be the poem of the day on any day. Indeed. This morning two mockingbirds in the green field were spinning and tossing... Continue Reading →
When the Journey Seems a Jungle
On so many days, the journey daunts. It’s the obstacle. It’s the path. It’s both. You choose the order, if that's a must for you. Some days I stagger but I also admit to a bit of swagger. Those days cost me more, ultimately. This day, the journey is loud with "voices I leave behind." I... Continue Reading →
Mary Oliver: Song of the Builders
Song of the Builders On a summer morning I sat down on a hillside to think about God - a worthy pastime. Near me, I saw a single cricket; it was moving the grains of the hillside this way and that way. How great was its energy, how humble its effort. Let us hope it... Continue Reading →
The Gift of the Giving Season
I always warm to the spirit of the giving season. It offers a rare moment of connection, an opportunity to change. Often, we pledge to do just that but the spirit is, at best, seasonal. Change is harder than we thought, and we resume our old ways. We forget the moment that brought us so close to... Continue Reading →
A Mary Oliver Kind of Sunday
Roses Everyone now and again wonders about those questions that have no ready answers: first cause, God's existence, what happens when the curtain goes down and nothing stops it, not kissing, not going to the mall, not the Super Bowl. "Wild roses," I said to them one morning. "Do you have the answers? And if... Continue Reading →