Showing posts with label Mary Oliver. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary Oliver. Show all posts

Saturday, April 11, 2015

You do not have to be good


You Do Not Have to Be Good
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.

~ Mary Oliver ~

You do not have to be good.


You do not have to be good.
You only have to allow the soft warm animal of your heart and body and mind and soul love what they love.

What do they love?
Being alive.

What do they love?
Discovering the mysteries of field and meadow and leaf and stream and sunshine and smile and love ( and money, ha).

You only have to fly, harsh and exciting of wing flap and heart soar, into the clear blue skis, over the bright golden meadows, the white snowy peaks, the churning turquoise oceans, the dark gleaming pebbles the sparkling ecstatic streams.
Soar, fly, take it all in.
It’s all yours.
Life.

You are part of the family of things and the family means a loved one and some friends. You don’t have to have children, but you do need to give birth of something wild and soaring and mysterious.
Like a baby
Like a poem.
Like a crazy ass book, a paintng, a song, your own dance of that day, your own amazing communication, a symphony, a new thought. A quietness of the mind and soul.
Give birth to yourself, the emptiness dancing that is who you really are.

And, yes, yes, you can create your own business, but a business for the soaring of it, and the love for life and your partner and your colleagues, and employees, and mainly for the world who is going to delight in your helping them soaring over the golden green blue sparkling earth.

The world is ours to love.
You do not have to be good because you are really good, you are made that way, before you eat the apple of “this is good, and this is bad.”
Adam and Eve. You do not have to be good Eve. Be yourself and you are the whole of the universe. You don’t have to worry about what the serpent thinks is right, You don’t have to worry about what God thinks is right.
Hug that man, Eve, and dance in the garden.

And so today: let’s hug.
And talk.
At the same time.

You do not have to be good at being present. You do not have to be good at hugging.

And naturally, you will do fine. Just fine. Wonderfully.

It’s all easy, this life and loving thing, if we don’t worry about what other people think (which is usually what “good” is, something like the lowest common denominator of repressed behavior to not scare the most unhappy person in the room with our happiness).
What other people about you think is almost always a reliable indicator of their pathology, and only rarely has anything much to do with you.
You trigger them. They tell you to be good, which, as said above means: don’t scare me by showing me how happy I could be if I stopped worshipping my chains.
And finally, it’s easy, this life and loving thing, if we don’t worry about what our opinion of how we “should be” thinks about us.
If we just live.

And this isn’t hedonism.
Though with your mate, sensual pleasure is one of the best ways in the world to create mutual warmth and nourishing.

Not hedonism, no. This is soft easy pleasant touch, yes.
And talk.

Let the soft warm you in your heart and hands and legs and lips and bellies and all over, and the soft warm you in your mind without words and the soft warm you of your soul merging with another be your guide.

At least some of the day.

Like Now.

Hug your partner, standing.
Hug for awhile, at least two minutes without saying anything.
Then take turns of a minute to two minutes ( don’t time it, just guess) of saying exactly what you are feeling.
In your touch: I feel my fingers stroking your hair. In your reception: I feel your fingers caressing my hair.
Go slowly. Do things. Slow things.
Notice them.
Include gravity.
Include breath.
Include everything.
Share back and forth your present experience.

What comes next?

You discover.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

the animial/ beast/ woman/ child/ native/ weed inside of us

you do not have to be good

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE GOOD

You do not have to walk a hundred miles
on your knees
across the desert
repenting

You only have to let the soft
warm
animal
in you
love what is loves.

YOU ONLY HAVE TO LET THE
SOFT WARM
ANIMAL
IN YOU
LOVE WHAT IT LOVES

From the first part of Mary Oliver's wild geese poem.
See it all down, down down around the bottom part of the front
page of my mother site,
of the name BecomeMoreAmazing.com

and there's more
to the poem
and to
the liberations

because
we have a wild filthy animal
and that's got to be free
to love and go wild and get dirty

and we have a lazy and silly animal
and that's got to be allowed to nap forever some days,
and go around laughing it its own and others' shadows,
or eyebrows, or tonuges
or words

and pretentions

the soft
the wild
the silly
animal just is what it is

shitting in the forest
peeing in the flower beds
farting here
belching there

fucking in the meadow on the beach on the trailhead
in the thicket, the thinet, the middet
fucking and hugging
and falling down
naked, and rubbing flesh to flesh all
night
just
for the mammalian YES of it

we have a brain
ah,
yes,
that too, the animal that can think
we can think for the pure joy
of it
and best smartest kindest
to think to improve the lot
of any messes we or our fellow forgetters
get into

the soft warm wild funky filthy smart dumb crazy brilliant
animal
in us

the wild child
the restless native without property boundaries,
who owns the earth and the rivers because no one
owns them
the child that can pee wherever it wants to pee
the animal who love making is
dictated by the lunging yes
that is
always
always
always there

and when we wake up to
it

life
is full

and then
the clock strikes twelves or two or six and we think
the slave has to be who we are

it doesn't

the animal can tone it in
a bit
play the civilized game

and it's only a game

and there's a deeper game
without a name
without words

a rolling in the mud, hugging the wrong person,
loving everyone game

gasp,
is today the right day to play it?

is shall we wait,
till the ducks and dead and stuffed and frozen
and all in a line?

a rhetorical question if I ever saw one.


ha!

Friday, September 21, 2012

a real poem for once: You do not have to be good

a real poem for once: You do not have to be good. This is Mary Oliver. She has the real shit.

She goes out in nature every day and listens to the world beneath words.

She translates.


Here's what she heard one day:

Listen, listen, listen.



Wild Geese

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.

~ Mary Oliver
~

My feelings: I love Mary Oliver.
I feel soft and free when I read this, as if someone understands.
I am weary of being good, even the being good of "not being good."
I am
Grateful, I have found my gang, in which the soft animal of my body can love what it loves, and the soft ocean of my heart can swish and swirl in many and all directions, not necessarily knowing where it's going, but reaching more and more connection, finding the joyous scary peaceful thrill in the family of all things.
ALL things.
love,
Chris

Friday, December 09, 2011

Best first line of poem, thank z be to Mary Oliver: You do not have to be good




You do not have to be good

You don't have to finish your breakfast and wash the dishes
before you go to write a poem
or take a walk
or go back to bed and make love to everyone you love

You do not have to say your prayers
Nor do you have to scorn those who pray continuously

You do not have to turn out the lights
and go to sleep at
ten
eleven
twelve
one

You do not have to be fresh and perky the next
day

Nor need you repent of the late night reading
walking under the stars
making love to everyone you love
lying awake in blessed non sleep not dreaming
not thinking
not even meditating

just warm
lying there
wasting time

You do not have to not waste time

You can linger
over
almost anything to good effect
whatever good effect means,
let's say it means: joyful sustanence

and linger away
at the book, the lover, the bed, the walk,
the poem,

even your work

You do not have to begrudge your
work
Nor listen to anyone who is boring you

You do not have to wait until tomorrow
to be
happy
nor even
until this poem is over

Meanwhile
wild geese fly over Mary Oliver's poem
and the heater hums in mine
a rare cold day in Austin
in Texas
where I never thought I'd be
and I'm in love
with so many things
and I could blame it on Austin
or God
or you

but why bother

you do not have to have an excuse
for
happiness
nor
for joy