Wednesday, May 18, 2011

"let the soft animal of your body love what it loves", Mary Oliver

I discovered today that there is still a crater in my heart, I wonder if there is even a heart left that darn crater is so big. I mistaken, at times, the thin pink layer of skin as healed, all healed up and ready to go. Then the wide eyed, pink maned Leo jumps into adventures with both feet so strong and proud...... all head up, all healed up. "I'm fine" I say between sobs from the peeling back of that new fresh skin. There are just so many people eager to get under there and peel it back it seems. So the choice becomes a)trust them and jump in and take a risk or b) hide out, alone. This is where a book about life might come in handy but probably, even knowing what I do now, I will still pick option a. And maybe, just maybe one of the adventures will be the one to help it heal. In the mean time I'll have a healthy dose of scar tissue.

Can someone  please mail me the copy of that handbook, you know the one for living and loving and knowing how to be. I seem to have been left off of the mailing list, I'm sure that one of you has a copy I can borrow. It won't take me long to read as I'm an eager student and a quick study, I'll get it back to you just as soon as I have it all figured out.

I hate advice....... it really ticks me off. But, at this particular moment in time I love Lilly Allen's little tune and I'm singing it at the top of my lungs. You know the one? F. U. very very much.

I also love the way Mary Oliver nails it when she asks, "what will you do with your one wild and precious life"?

"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
call to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things."
— Mary Oliver

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