I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not how shall
I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?
Finally, I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.
― Mary Oliver
It's a quiet, gray weekend with soft showers drifting through the air. The usual signs of life are missing—no tiger beetles darting across the ground, no robber flies or dragonflies in sight. Only a lone Bald Eagle gilded above, moving steadily along the river. On the surface, life along the Wisconsin River seems to have retreated for the season, but the landscape's energy is just tucked away, lying dormant beneath the sand, rocks, logs, and grasses, waiting for the right moment to reemerge.
In these quiet moments, it's easy to overlook the subtle resilience of the land. Mosses and lichens thrive on the rocks and fallen logs, vibrant in shades of green and gray, unaffected by the season's change. The river's slow, steady flow offers a calm contrast to summer's rapid currents, and the trees, stripped of their leaves, stand tall, their skeletal branches stark against the gray sky.
Mary Oliver's words speak to the universal experience of feeling overwhelmed by what we can't control—be it personal fears or broader uncertainties. The poem's journey from worry to a sense of release suggests a way to navigate challenging times by reconnecting with what remains steady, like Nature. When facing disappointment or a sense of powerlessness, we can take a cue from Oliver and find solace in life's simple, grounded aspects.
To be honest, I am not all that worried and I have endured a lot in my six decades. Nature, with its dependable cycles, offers a calming contrast to human worries. Just as Oliver steps outside and begins to sing, we, too, can find renewal in turning our attention toward the Natural World, where the rhythms of the earth move on despite our temporary struggles. This groundedness can offer a healthy perspective, encouraging us to focus on what brings peace, even when external circumstances feel unsteady.
Don't forget this!
All images © 2024 Mike McDowell