Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets. Her exquisite piece called The Summer Day has long touched my soul with the final line asking the question: What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean–
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down–
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?
As a seasoned woman, I have more days behind me than in front of me. When my 67 year old body is not able to do what my 27 year old body did, I sometimes bemoan that and celebrate what it can still do. I go to the gym 3-5 times a week, an hour per visit, and I walk around my beautiful Bucks County, PA town of Doylestown. There I cross paths with friends who have been a delight, in some cases for decades. It’s kind of like Cheers, ‘where everybody knows your name.’ We are likely to hug in greeting. They know I am the Hugmobster Armed with Love who offers FREE HUGS wherever I go.
When my 67 year old brain is not able to do what my 27 year old brain could in terms of memory retention and recall, I give myself grace and take a breath, while I wait for the words or images to show up on the mental movie screen. I just started doing this fun brain builder exercise when I am driving. As cars are heading in my direction I rattle off the brand name as a litany. Ford, Chevy, Honda, Subaru (my current car), Hyundai (my previous car), JEEP (a few cars ago), Toyota, Mitsubishi, Mazda, Nissan, GMC, Saab, BMW, Lexus…and so on. I have gotten good at recognizing the logos. I used to have a phonographic memory as I could recall the lyrics to every song I heard and name the title and performer. As an avid music listener, it remains one of my strengths.
In decades past, I would travel and teach, visiting friends and family. These days, I stay closer to home. The pandemic put a crimp in my desire to be on the road or in planes. I used to envision the focus of my work involving being on ‘the Big Stage’ and now I am content to do my work as a therapist. It occurred to me as I was driving home on Friday night after a long week of intense work with clients, that when I offer therapy, I am also a motivational speaker with an audience of one, or in the case of couples or family counseling, a few more. Much of what I say comes from intuition and almost five decades of work in the field. I encourage them to live their best lives to the best of their ability and willingness. I practice what I preach as I do the same.
What would a ‘wild and precious life’ look like now?
Trusting my gut/intuition when it comes to decision making.
Surrounding myself with people of quality and integrity.
Giving generously and accepting gratefully.
Being a life long learner.
Making myself a blessing to everyone I meet.
Being an advocate for peace and social justice.
Speaking truth from the heart.
Walking my talk.
Using the tools I was given to enhance the world.
Tapping into my spirituality.
Immersing myself in creativity.
Soaking in music.
Setting boundaries.
Being mindful instead of mind full, like dishes in the sink.
Maintaining some semblance of order.
Practicing assertiveness.
Slowing down and taking one step at a time instead of moving at such a speed.
Setting intention each day for the experiences and people and opportunities I want to attract.
Being my own canvas on which I paint the colors of my imagination.
Listening to my body and resting when need be instead of being on the go so much of the time.
Being independent and asking for help when I need it.
Caring less about what others think of me and caring more about what I think of myself, knowing that I live with myself 24/7.
Listening to the Muse who inspires me daily.
A kindred spirit and long time friend Rodney Whittenberg, an Emmy Award-winning composer, filmmaker, production engineer, musician, lay preacher, and speaker, penned a song inspired by Mary Oliver’s poem called Wild and Precious Life. It is a lovely laundry list of ideas to create one for yourself. Please listen to this etheric version, drinking in the sweet nectar. Another livelier and upbeat meditation on the subject can be heard here.
