Hi, friends! & Hi to new subscribers! I’ve got a bunch of new things coming your way once I submit my final grades a little over a week from now. If you’re also in an end-of-school-year sprint, I hope you’re hanging in there. And, if you’re not, pleeeease have a porch sit for me until I can join you!
Today, I’ve got a writing prompt for you from Mary Oliver. I hope it brings you something good. 💛
Mary Oliver has always been a talisman for me as a poet and person. A bringer of magic. Her poems bear the marks of living fully—of looking closely, of really listening. She points me toward praise, hard though it may be.
I’m currently preparing to finish the school year, which always comes with a mixture of emotions and a lot of work. But this year, I’m also preparing to leave this beloved school community where I’ve been teaching for the last five years, so the emotions are far more loaded than the typical “School’s Out” business. I’m working on a longer essay about this, but for now, I’ll just say that as I prepare for this sabbatical, I’m asking myself what my work is and what I want it to be. I’m noticing what I love to do that doesn’t feel like work. The other day, I felt overwhelmed by my to do list + the emotional tidal waves, so I opened a Mary Oliver book in the pile on my desk. Yes, I was looking for a way to put off grading a bit longer. I was also looking for something to ground me so I could be present enough mentally to comment on my students’ one-act plays. In her book, Thirst, I ran into the poem, “Messenger,” an old favorite of mine that I hadn’t seen for years.
Messenger
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.—Mary Oliver, from Thirst, Beacon Press (2006)
Prompt
Oliver says her work is “loving the world.” She goes on to say her work is also “mostly standing still and learning to be astonished…rejoicing…gratitude…”
In the same vein of Oliver’s definition of work, what is your work?
First, make a list of the things you feel called to do—your work as a human being on the planet.
When do you feel most alive? Most unaware of time passing—of the utility of your actions? What are you doing in those moments?
Write into this space and see where it takes you. You may want to try Oliver’s use of “which is mostly…” to dig a bit deeper…
Then, consider how you might organize it. Perhaps you’re writing a lyric poem, or a list poem. Perhaps it’s a “job description” for yourself. Perhaps it’s an essay, or a painting or drawing or comic. Maybe it’s a letter to yourself about what you want to consider as valuable as what you do to earn money. Maybe it’s a mission statement. Trying out a different “container” for your piece might generate some new possibilities.
I’d love to hear / see any starts you’d like to share. Feel free to share in the comments below…
Be Where You Are is about how to use writing and mindfulness to be where you are. You’re always welcome to reply to this email, comment below, or find me on instagram (@mohnslate) or elsewhere. If you enjoyed this, I’d love it if you would consider subscribing, share this post, or send it to a friend. 💛
I love this idea!
From a scrap draft: “The work is sight-reading fog’s sheet music for the poem; standing still long enough to show myself harmless to the clearing…”