Kindred Spirits: Mary Oliver

In my UU church service this weekend I was introduced to a Mary Oliver poem that I had never heard before.  It was called:  When I am Among the Trees.

In the service, the poem was set beautifully to music by the church choir which I unfortunately cannot replicate for you here.

But the poem itself goes like this:

When I am among the trees,

especially the willows and the honey locust,

equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,

they give off such hints of gladness.

I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,

in which I have goodness, and discernment,

and never hurry through the world

but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves

and call out, “Stay awhile.”

The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,

“and you too have come

into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled

with light, and to shine.”

Hearing this poem was like listening to the words of another kindred spirit.

Now that the New England season has transitioned to its too early warm summer temperatures, my meditation practice has shifted to. 

In the winter months my primary object, where I gather my attention in insight meditation, is on my breath.  However, in the summer, with my back door open, I use sound as my primary object of meditation, and often, the sound is of tree leaves swishing in the light breeze.

I particularly enjoyed this seasonal shift in my object of meditation recently at my first overnight mindfulness meditation retreat.

On this retreat I tried out forest meditation for the first time in this little, screened-in one-woman cabin.

It was a novel experience for me to have my primary object of meditation, sound, be surrounding me so fully, 360 degrees in fact.  And, as it was a forest, the subtle and not-so-subtle movements of the woodlands were the most precious to me.

Perhaps Ms. Oliver would have enjoyed the practice too...

How about you?