my work is loving

I love this world! Who could have guessed that this trip to Portland would end with my son and I sitting here for so long at Gate 13? Oakland Airport has no Gate 13, or at least it didn’t on Friday the 13^th. Reality has been so malleable that I wouldn’t be surprised if now a Gate 13 has appeared. Or, maybe here in Portland, bastion of so many earth worshipers, the number 13 is held in good repute. Whatever the case, I’m getting a kick out of the fact that here we sit, waiting for our flight which is delayed, right under a big sign for Gate 13.

The trip has been a good one. I met Archer, the six week old son of my friends Lilith and Scott. Lilith and Scott are the kind of people who whatever they engage in, they do it well. Thank goddess their extreme competence is leavened with a great sense of humor. Going out to dim sum with them along with my friend Dawn’s and my teenage son, I found myself savoring the feeling of the movement of time, of new and upcoming generations. How will these children pass on what they’ve gotten from us? All of us have done a better job at parenting than our parents. What will these boys be like as fathers? And I said the inevitable prayer that their children’s children will have a future, and one in which there is still the beauty of this spring in Portland.

Portland was ablaze with color. Tulips, lilacs, and dogwood trees dazzled. Driving back from lunch, I exclaimed on how gorgeous the world is, on what an amazing planet we live on. Quinn, Dawn’s son, said, in the way only a teenager can say this, “But do you want to marry it?” “I already did”, I replied. And I have. For isn’t this what initiation is in an earth based spirituality? A life long commitment to this beautiful world, to this force we call life?

A few hours later, I found a new Mary Oliver book of poetry in a bookstore, with exactly the right poem. I bought it. Today, this purchase was outdone by my purchase of garden gnome in the likeness of Noam Chomsky, made by someone in Portland who also makes garden gnomes who resemble the green man. Made in a basement laundry room, Gnome Chomsky will be a perfect addition to my rooftop garden. I love this world!

Messenger

My work is loving this world.

Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird –

equal seekers of sweetness.

Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.

Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?

Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me

keep my mind on what matters,

which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be

astonished.

The phoebe, the delphinium.

The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.

Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart

and these body-clothes,

a mouth with which to give shouts of joy

to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,

telling them all, over and over, how it is

that we live forever.

Mary Oliver