Greetings Sunny Optimists,
I hope all is well with you this week and that life is being kind to you.
As I was pondering what to write for you this week, the poem I Happened to Be Standing by Mary Oliver came to me. She has a lovely way of weaving our human experience in with beautiful observations of our natural world. She awakens us to our interconnectedness with all of Life and invites us to play. There is a profound optimism that permeates her writing. I particularly appreciate the evocative last line of the poem.
'So, I just listened, my pen in the air.'
I am feeling into that 'pondering' space just now. I am standing in my doorway, looking out on life and contemplating. Big Smile:)
Having turned 70 and being married for 25 years, I can feel myself touching into the possibilities for the years ahead. There is a weaving of optimism and a little doubt as I look out on the world as it is now. I want to make a difference for myself and the people I care about, include my Sunny Optimists buddies. This poem feels just right to stay present, stay simple and stay connected. I hope it lifts your spirits.
Questions for this week
What are you pondering today?
Is there some beauty of the natural world sending you a prayer?
Is there a favourite poem you would like to share?
As always, I would love to hear from you.
Ann
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I happened to be standing by Mary Oliver
I don't know where prayers go,
or what they do.
Do cats pray, while they sleep
half-asleep in the sun?
Does the opossum pray as it
crosses the street?
The sunflowers? The old black oak
growing older every year?
I know I can walk through the world,
along the shore or under the trees,
with my mind filled with things
of little importance, in full
self-attendance. A condition I can't really
call being alive
Is a prayer a gift, or a petition,
or does it matter?
The sunflowers blaze, maybe that's their way.
Maybe the cats are sound asleep. Maybe not.
While I was thinking this I happened to be standing
just outside my door, with my notebook open,
which is the way I begin every morning.
Then a wren in the privet began to sing.
He was positively drenched in enthusiasm,
I don't know why. And yet, why not.
I wouldn't persuade you from whatever you believe
or whatever you don't. That's your business.
But I thought, of the wren's singing, what could this be
if it isn't a prayer?
So I just listened, my pen in the air.
Oh Ann, such a tremendous reminder of what is ever accessible if we modulate our awareness, tuning into the vastness of life, the loving embrace always available to us. We are made for this lovely connection. Thank you for sharing such truth and beauty. Much love to you my friend!
Thank you for this, Ann. Here is one of my very favorite short poems: "Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, And human love will be seen at its height. Only connect! And live in fragments no longer." E.M. Forster