I’ve read this line by Mary Oliver a million times:
“Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?”
But I’m not sure I ever read the fuller poem before. Here’s the first couple lines that caught my attention:
“Well, there is time left —
fields everywhere invite you into them.
And who will care, who will chide you if you wander away
from wherever you are, to look for your soul?
Quickly, then, get up, put on your coat, leave your desk!”
These lines had me thinking last night as I read them over and over again:
How often do we remain stuck out of fear?
How often do we remain stuck out of a misguided sense of caution and/or prudence?
How often do we stay… barely breathing?
There is time left… not enough and yet just enough.
So what are we to do with it?
“God, what do you want me to do with it? This time that is both enough and not enough all rolled into one?”
That.
That’s my prayer.
Today and every day until God answers.
But… wait…
What if God wants me to answer it myself?
All by myself?
What if it’s God that is waiting for me instead of the other way around?
Oh Lord, what then?
Will I fall in?
