Mindful 2017
I am going to try and
respond each day to this moving poem by Mary Oliver as my daily practice for
2017.
Mindful –
Every Day I see and hear something that more or less kills
me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light. It is
what I was born for – to look, to listen, to lose myself inside this soft world
– to instruct myself over and over in joy, and acclamation. Nor am I talking
about the exceptional, the fearful, the dreadful, the very extravagant- but of
the ordinary, the common, the very drab, the daily presentations. Oh good
scholar, I day to myself, how can you help but grow wise with such teachings as
these- the untrimmable light of the world, the oceans shine, the prayers that
are made out of grass?
January 1
Sitting in the flickering sunshine under the oleander tree
here in Palm Desert, I hear the hummingbird buzzing mightily directly
over my head – such a big sound from such a small bird. To believe that the year
could start with the sight/sound of a hummingbird is not something I would ever
have thought possible.
January 2
One of the things I most like to do while we are in Palm
Desert is to hike and there is a trail that goes up to about 500 feet through
the desert scrub to a lighted cross that overlooks the city. Because there has
been so much drought here even the desert vegetation is suffering. But on my
way up the trail today I see what looks like an extremely dead bush… Until I
get very close and I see small red flowers beginning to emerge. Happy New Year.
Happy new life for this bush.
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