Tag Archives: Mary Oliver

Solving the Problem of Suffering with a Song

Life is suffering.  I know I need to accept this fact in order to overcome it.  But I want more,  I want something bigger and brighter than sitting down with my fingers in a mudra and thinking life is suffering, just ‘assept’ it already.

I want to solve the problem of suffering, and this blog’s unwavering aim is to do just that.  Because yes, bad things happen.  Yes, we suffer. But can we see the beauty in it?  And in doing so, do we not overturn and transform the aforementioned slug of suffering into an awe-inspiring praying mantis?

The discontent I carried for many years has now given way to a newfound freedom and happiness.  Perhaps only temporarily, perhaps because of medical advances, but I will take what I can get!

Quiet desperation is the enemy.   Life is meant to be relished, rejoiced, enjoyed.

The Summer Day

Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

What are you planning to do?  Are you beating the suffering, killing the blues? Click the link to see me sing about this :)

The Journey

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late enough,
and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world, determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.

~Mary Oliver