This is actually a photo of my honey Pam (another poetry angel) among the trees on St. Barth in 2008. She is gazing at the results of a hurricane/tropical storm that came steaming through while we were there.
We are currently sitting out a storm at home, requiring a battening of emotional hatches, a retreat to safety, and a reassessment of the landscape. I have alluded to this, but Pammie, pictured above, did spill it on her blog. Our oldest (but still very young) daughter is pregnant, the result of carelessness and perhaps an unconscious choosing of what seems to us an impossibly difficult, unwelcome, poorly planned path. Our parental list of objections and worries is long, ponderous even. But maybe our parental list is not the point. Maybe the point is that here we all are, and how are we going to proceed?
I remember that St. Barth storm and the philosophical, wonderfully French shrug of our landlord’s shoulders as he assessed the damage and then took his usual swim, once the waters had calmed. It had happened before, and would undoubtedly happen again, this meteorological messing with his life and his home. Beneath the turbulence, the sand is fine, the sea blue and warm, the volcanic shapes of the island untouched.
And beneath this current storm, the heart that connects us beats. The arc of her life is hers alone. This situation seems to me an excellent opportunity to practice my improvisational skills, to dance the music that is playing now, not the tune I was hearing yesterday. Here’s some help:
When I Am Among the Trees
by Mary Oliver
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.”
“When I Am Among the Trees” by Mary Oliver, from Thirst. © Beacon Press, 2006. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)
Ahhhh, my sister became pregnant unexpectedly when she was only sixteen. When my niece was born our family came together around her like magnets. Like moths to a flame. She was and is still magical. I can’t imagine where we would have ended up without her essence.
It was quite a shock when we all found out – but oh what a cute baby! And such a funny toddler too! She kept me laughing in stitches all the time. She is now 20 years old. Where does the time go?
What we think are mistakes are usually blessings in disguise. But I am sure you know this.
We are moving, sailing like big mother ships in the direction she has chosen.
This is so beautiful Paula, I love the thought of the blue water and fine sand and islands untouched and well. A constant calm beneath it all.