One Dusty Old Thing Leads to Another

Isn't it amazing how one seemingly random choice can lead to a whole chain of fortuitous circumstance!  On a whim you pick up a certain book and you find that a whole new part of the world opens up to you.

A book of essays that had been hanging around on my shelves for several years (probably bought from a bookstore's bargain table) found its way into my hands a year ago.  Thumbing through a number of the essays for something to grab my attention, I came across a short piece by one Mary Oliver, a name then completely unfamiliar to me. "Dust" was the essay title, and it was short--so I could chance reading it with little time investment.


Short in words, yes--but large in thought.  Ever since that first reading I have found it impossible to let go of what it said on its first page.

She talks about "M." (unnamed in the essay, but who is identifiable when you read about Mary Oliver's life), who would keep everything, even empty envelopes for their handwritten addresses and postmarks.

     Of course she would rather there be something inside--a letter! or, oh lovely 
     chance, a photograph!

M. dreams of all the old and forgotten stories, dispersed to the wind, to the ages...
She thinks of the people who left all these things--books, hats, pieces of lace.

      And photographs, the unnameable faces gazing out, everything to say and 
      no way, no way ever again, to be heard.

That last line evokes such a feeling of nostalgia, of a universal link to what it means to be human.  All of us want, need, to make connections to others.  And we all hope that something of ourselves is left as a legacy to those who come after.

If I were an avid reader of poetry I would have recognized Mary Oliver as one of our most prolific and appreciated contemporary poets.  No wonder the lines above, though part of an essay, have such poetic resonance.  I researched  her poetry and found many examples of moving, insightful writing.


One of her best-known poems is "Wild Geese," in which she talks about love and despair, the tension in trying to discern our right path.  She finds reassurance in the natural world order--the sun, the rain, the mountains, and the wild geese.


      Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
     the world offers itself to your imagination,
     calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting,
     over and over announcing your place
     in the family of things.
 Read this whole poem and many more

One of her more recent books of poetry is Thirst (2006), in which she works her way through grief after the death of Molly Malone Cook, her beloved partner for over forty years.  Her poem, "Heavy," expresses the advice of a friend:

     It's not the weight you carry
     but how you carry it--
     books, bricks, grief--
     it's all in the way 
     you embrace it, balance it, carry it
     when you cannot, and would not,
     put it down. 
About Mary Oliver
 I don't want to go on too long with this post, even though there are many more of her poems that I could cite.  Maybe at some future time, I'll do that.

Who is one of your favorite authors?  or favorite books?  Post a comment here and share with all the readers of Miiind Wide Open.
  

Cutting for Blossom

Intrigued by its bright succulent leaves and delicate flowers, I bought a Kalanchoe plant several months ago and placed it indoors. 

After several months the blossoms dried up.  I didn't want to throw away the plant but, not sure how best to prune it, I just picked off the spent blossoms.


Obviously, this wasn't going to work.

Now I'm getting serious.
The old stems have to be sacrificed.

 

This is more like it.
Look at all that beautiful fresh growth
underneath!

 OK--I won't belabor the point here.
We all know that sometimes it takes pain to bring about a new and improved version.
Gone is all the dead stuff -- as well as that gaudy, shiny paper.

But I'll dress it up in a new and pretty pot, give it lots of loving care--and hope for the best! 
Stay tuned.

Who Are the Turkeys in Your Neighborhood?

"Hmm--this looks like a good neighborhood."

"Nice green grass.  Makes the bugs grow fat and tasty."

"Now, remember-- We say that we happen to be in the neighborhood doing some exterminator work, and we can make them a special deal.  Today only!"

"How were we supposed to read the 'No Solicitors' sign?"

Well, it's not always going to be serious here.  Sometimes you just gotta have fun!

These gals were walking down the street yesterday as though they own the neighborhood--and maybe they do.  We have quite a few wild turkeys around.  This is a regular suburban neighborhood--houses with front lawns and backyards--but there are a couple of nearby parks, with creeks connecting us.  The turkeys come around whenever they feel like it--and sometimes stop traffic when they are trying to cross a busy street.

Looking at Both Sides

Bows and flows of angel hair
    and ice cream castles in the air
...I've looked at clouds that way.
But now they only block the sun;
   they rain and snow on everyone
...clouds got in my way.


  
How many times have I heard that song? and sung along to the few words I remembered?  Nice song, right?  Catchy tune, enjoyable rhyme--moons and Junes, tears and fears, dreams and schemes.  But, for some reason, while hearing Judy Collins sing it on my car radio recently, I really listened with my Mind Wide Open, catching all the words and their meaning.

Joni Mitchell wrote the song while observing clouds on an airplane flight.  It appeared on her album, "Clouds," in 1969, but Judy Collins made the first commercial recording, winning a Grammy for Best Folk Performance in 1968.

So it has been around for quite awhile.  And it's never too late to listen with mind fully engaged.

Every verse draws a contrast between the loveliness of puffy white clouds in a blue sky that makes us feel happy, proud, dizzy with love--and the underside of clouds as they rain on our parades and cast shadows of self-doubt.  We are left with the parting thought that looking at clouds (life) from both sides leaves us with a sense of disillusion.  I really don't know life at all.

I don't buy into a sense of pessimism.  I think that life and love are made up of both sides--euphoric and  disheartening--and all gradations in between.  It's in the acceptance of both these extremes as part of being human, seeing them clearly, and balancing them within the framework of my psyche--that life becomes either challenging and rewarding or just an ordeal to get through.  So we welcome the roller coaster ride of both sides, knowing that something's gained in living every day.  And isn't it wonderful when that thought is communicated through great music?

Youtube -- Judy Collins singing "Both Sides Now"