Friday, August 19, 2005

Dear Reader, A Gift For You

When I wrote the title I felt a little like Charlotte Bronte in Jane Eyre ("Reader, I married him.") Tonight I'm tired, that kind of tired where I can't watch a tv commercial without crying. So I won't say much. Instead I'll let someone else speak for me. I'll let her words say what I want you to know. Because even my fingers are tired tonight, I won't write her words out. I'll give you a link to her fabulous poem.
Mary Oliver is my favorite poet. You've probably guessed that by now as I tend to quote her work a lot. Although I've never considered myself a nauturalist I do greatly appreciate the spirituality of her poems. She writes about what I want: a deeper life, a life of meaning. I love when she asks, "Are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?" Do you relate? I do. How often I have accepted scraps, how often I have settled for a life that isn't full, sometimes because of fear, other times because I was just too exhausted for more.
It is a rather long poem. For that I apologize. But believe me, it is well worth the time. If tonight you are as tired as I am then save this for another day, a day when you have the energy to take it all in. For now just know this is my gift to you. A gift of hope. As she says there is still time. Go on, wander away and look for your soul. I give you permission. Risk being overcome with amazement. And when you find that sweet life, fall in, fall in. I dare you. And please, let me know how your journey went.


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