I have always loved this poem by Mary Oliver which I posted back in 2007. These days it has even more significance as I ponder the life of my late mother. I have tried not to annoy you, dear readers, with a constant revelation of my every thought over the past six months dealing with the end of my mother’s life but the one constant is a deep regret at what I perceive as her living just a shadow of her life rather than delving into its rich beauty and discovering the nuggets of gold that lie underneath the often distressing and sometimes tragic realities of human experience.
We only get to live one wild and precious life at a time – although we have a series of lifetimes and shift in and out of one body to another, we do not get to live parallel lives. We only have the one, and every moment is precious. Now that I am past the 60 year mark, each year goes by more quickly.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
Unfortunately, this is something I do NOT do well. I rarely pay attention, being too concerned with what needs to be done. I am not good at being idle, or strolling through fields. But this IS what I want to do with my one wild and precious life, beginning today!