Sharing Mary Oliver’s Poem “The Journey”

These times have a bonus. We seem to be receiving an invitation to grow.
Mary Oliver’s poem “The Journey” describes the moment of decision that we all make when we realize the quality and outcome of our lives ( by the grace of God) is one decision for destiny.

 

Mary Oliver’s Poem: THE JOURNEY

One day you finally new what you had to do,

and you 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 … (saying)… “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

The very foundations,

Though their melancholy

Was terrible,

It was already late enough,

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 cloud,

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.

Your own.

 

Mary Oliver

Adapted by Tobi Lytle

Tobi@TobiLytle.com

Amen.

Round & Round. Hothouse for blooming.

I’m preparing to move back to the Monterey Peninsula, again. Pebble Beach this time. November 1st.

What magic, mystery, karma, true nature – is guiding me back to this place, where my soul, can bloom and thrive. Nurtured by the place, the people, the possibilities, the naked truth of me.

Interesting how we feel that thriving is like the environment we had that felt most pure, as a child. I spent alot of time in the woods – of my parents 40 acre home – in South Central Michigan.
I don’t go there anymore.
Not since 2001.

I drew a line in the soil. We need to draw boundaries sometimes. From these boundaries – we build our home. The wall of the basement – is the boundaries we drew yester-month.

Who’d know that many years later -I’d open my eyes on a Sunday morning – in the foothills overlooking Pebble Beach – hearing the roar of the ocean meeting shore – below – and thinking – how lucky I am – to be here now!

I am living in the forest – out of the traffic of the city – off the beaten trail of the auto – and clamoring crowd. Living in the rich silence of the woods. I strain to hear the wind whisper through the trees. Cliche yes. Cliches are Cliches because they are real.

It’s so simple. And so hard to get. That peaceful, rich, full, and simply beautiful place where we realize, finally, that we are like flowers, inhaling nurturance, our friends and family and even a stranger’s love, curiosity, longing to know us; it all counts to fill us with wonder, and transcendant awe.
We are all like flowers – subtly dependent on the weather to cause us to bloom. We look to situate ourselves in a hothouse environment – where we are sure to bloom. But we’re left to find our own hothouses. Where is my hothouse?

Once Benjamin said about purpose, “We might be on earth -for the one moment – to say hello to a woman in the gutter – who needed to know – she was seen by someone – in that time – in that place.” My sons are rich – having made their own lives meaningful to them – for now. I know they’ll awaken – and it’ll all change – or at least look different – down the road. Sometime soon.

Blooming is all we really want in life.
How hard it is to find – how good it is to find – how simple it is to find – when we finally find it. . .
Our blooming self!

Bloom