Message Received

The Messenger by Mary Oliver

My Work is loving the world.

Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird —

Equal seekers of sweetness.

Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.

Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?

Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect?

Let me keep my mind on what matters,

Which is my work,

Which is mostly standing still and learning to be

Astonished.

The phoebe, the delphinium.

The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.

Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

Which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart

And these body-clothes,

A mouth with which to give shouts of joy

To the moth, and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,

Telling them all, over and over, how it is

That we live forever.

Oh Mary Oliver, how I have dreamed of a life such as yours filled with long walks, quiet, peace-filled moments attentive to the wisdom of nature, humbly serving as a present witness placing it all in prose to still one’s breath and heart. Now, as the planet has taken a breath, a pandemic imposed pause; the dreams of a poet’s life are answered and the seclusion calls me to join her. This modern home has provided the hermitage I have subconsciously longed for and now the stillness of society speaks as if to say, “Go home, now is the time to go within your own walls.”

Within these walls of windows I have found a home that reminds me daily that where astonishment and gratitude meet, contentment is found. Within my own walls, these “body-clothes”, I sense the expansion contentment brings, and when one is content, one is easily, simply astonished.

A quarantine has definitely developed a renewed appreciation for the simplest of things. Everyday errands that were previously spent discerning the best brand of something as simple as peanut butter is no longer of concern. Now the joy of the availability of pantry basics creates an awareness of abundance even that of a classically unadorned yet delicious PB&J.

And just like that jar of peanut butter, we feel constrained by the labels we have assigned ourselves and yet through this induced isolation we can discover sheer joy in knowing we are available. Sitting at home with ourselves we are blessed with the opportunity of an entirely new adventure. It is not in the woods, it is not in the restaurant we long to gather with friends or the Hawaiian beach my original calendar had me laying on this day. It is not even in the hugs we long for and dream of one day embracing. It is in each one of us if we are willing to take the leap and become the messenger Mary Oliver so eloquently reminds us to be.

There is time now. These moments have waited patiently for the recognition of their constant availability and as always they are grateful you have arrived. It is there I stop in wonder in the glow of the fabulous full moon or the tiny seedlings in my garden willing to present themselves to the world. The cardinals and the finches unflappingly fling the raindrops from their wings unaware of the humans’ current plight. The magnolia and redbud blossoms release their petals like an unexpected spring snowfall gliding on the brisk breezes knowing it is time to move forward as their growth requires letting go. We too have been given the opportunity to release some of our trappings, we have been granted a new awareness and understanding that it is time to let go of some things.

For some it is a simple shedding and for others the process can be lengthy and as painful as the caterpillar tightly wounding itself in awaiting transformation. And our growth, like the trees is almost cellular and sometimes so small that no one may notice, but inside you know you are building the strength to rise stronger and taller, to flower and to offer cover for others. You have found the ability to bend when the winds come and to inhale the gifts each breeze can bring. There is glory to be found in the warm rays of the sun and grace in the rain to quench our thirst. From our roots we can look lovingly at each cloud as it floats across a clearing sky, reminding us that this too shall pass. Standing strongly we will rise to create a new forest of contented community, one that is grateful for what is available to us, our breath, our old boots, the hummingbird and the blades of grass.

This quieted world has let us hear the birds sing. I hope you too are able to hear the song of your heart and share its message to the world. Many poets, sages and spiritual leaders did not find their heartsong in the crowds of marketplaces or endless options online, more often than not it was nature that led them there. It was in solitude they could be present, it was in silence they could hear. Now is our opportunity. Now is the time to look past the labels and share what we have found in our own jars, our own deepened wells.

So with every leaf that lands on the gentle flowing waters of the banks of my small creek I stand upon; every spring petal that each blossom releases upon the wind, every night star that emerges in the darkness; know that it carries a message for each one of us. Find your breath taken away. Be astonished. Experience the awesome humility that gratitude so freely offers and recognize the instinct that despite social distance and isolation, you are not alone. Look skyward and know that I am as well. There we messengers can meet in a confluence of community, in a knowingness of connection with the grace to cover us all.