The Journey ~ Mary Oliver - from "Dream Work"


 One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

The eagles are nesting again, near our home in the Ozark Mountains. They regally stand watch and announce the arrival of Spring. When they soar over the treetops and dip down to the water's edge, they take my breath away--along with my worries or concerns. Nature grounds us in the wonder of life. Its ebb and flow of seasons reminds us that what has a beginning will eventually have an end. We can lose sight of this inevitability when faced with life challenges. But, a walk through a park or into the woods or along the beach can restore our balance; we are reminded that the world we've created (of misunderstandings and dreams) is a tiny abode compared to that which accompanies us. And if we can set aside our worlds for even a few minutes, awe will bless us and peace will follow.

For much of my life, I've hoped for a miracle that would erase the past and sketch another present. Imagining myself to be another Gulliver, pinned down by real and imaginary forces, I'd think, I'm scared, poor me, or some variant of that theme, while I pleaded for divine intervention. What I often did not see at those life junctures was that the universe itself was waiting on me, and what held me captive was ultimately me. I was and am, you were and are, surrounded by miracles. Some of these miracles take our breath away; others quietly help us grapple with our circumstance and choose our way. I was reminded of these truths this past week, when I visited my relatives in the southern California desert.