Dreaming of Mary Oliver

Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver

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,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting,
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Had to Share

This may sound strange, but I just made the most yummy snack!

I used sprouted grain tortillas by Ezekiel, and inside them I spread raw Tahini (maybe 2 tsp) and topped that with guacamole (red onion, tomato, lime, cilantro, garlic), then a drizzle of agave, a pinch of pink Himalayan and a couple romaine leaves for crunch: so good, I had to share.

The sesame tahini is creamy and nutty and then the guac is kinda spicy and oozes in lovely ways, the salt brings out flavor, the agave for some sweetness -- this is the kind of thing that keeps me going all day. It feels so lovely and my body doesn't freak out or go into sugar-shock, the way wheat and hybrid grains tend to wear on me.

It's snowing in Colorado this morning. I love it -- it makes the whole world stand still, sit tight, relax, be silent, even for a moment: the universe seems to whisper in a hush.

I hope wherever you are today is lovely and amazing

Reflecting on In The Wild

If you ever feel the need to question the validity of your place in the world, now there are two versions of the same method. "Into the Wild" by Jon Krakauer, his small memoir-biography-novel (of great acclaim) has now become a film due to director Sean Penn's attention and devotion to bringing this screenplay into fruition for several years. The story of Christopher McCandless is a true one and one that will have you questioning where you want to hang your hat in life. It has put me into a moodiness that I haven't been able to shake yet this evening. The film is wonderful, inspiring and saddening. It provides the viewer with a certain kind of insight reticent of John Muir and Thoreau, all apparent heroes of McCandless or his pseudo self: Alexander Supertramp. This movie affected me. It made me crave wilderness and space in a way that I don't think I really know how to do. I spent a week in Oregon in August on the Rogue River winding through the Siskiyou wilderness, sleeping out under the stars, wary of bears and poison oak, but I feel like I -- in my usual fashion, didn't let myself really experience it and this makes me sad when I see a film about a boy/man who desired nothing else than to be made up of his experiences. It makes me wonder what I am wasting, what I am waiting for and why do I do it in the first place. Don't get me wrong, there are moments when I catch myself really smelling the air, really feeling the heat of the sun on my face… and those are the moments that seem beyond all else, the most real. If nothing else this film made me want to find ways to slow life, and time in general, down to a much smaller pace. Can you believe that we are half way through October? That in 5 weeks it will be Thanksgiving? Another month will bring us into the Winter Holidays; Chuanukah and Christmas, and then 6 days after that the year will come to and end? It just makes me wonder what moments have I added to my life experience that are worth rememebering, and if looking back I find my coffer is feeling more empty than I would like, then, what must I seek out to make my heart and life swell and feel full of its own substance. Tonight, all I can say is, Thank You for the life you lived and those you touched and the journey you took, Christopher McCandless, wherever you are.