Thursday, March 21


Every day

I see or hear

that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
It was 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 say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -
the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?
-Mary Oliver (Mindful)

We spent last few days of winter revisiting those chickens and friends and big decisions up on a mountain.  
All the conversations and walks and moments in front of a wood stove got me thinking and dreaming.  I'm wondering what contentment looks like.  Or how it feels to just know a life-direction is right.  Or how one settles into a calm and rooted existence.  

The other day on Ben Hewitt's blog I read about an older man who has lived a long life just doing what he loves.  I was struck by the way Ben described him: " most people who’ve figured out how they want to live their life and then actually lived it that way, he has a wonderfully grounded, low-key manner."
I think that's what I want to be when as I grow up.  Grounded and lowkey.  With a bit of that slow life filled with gratitude (see Mary Oliver poem) thrown in.  I'm certainly not there yet. 

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