Mindful

*A Small Note: This post was written last night but due to a temporary issue with my internet I was unable to post it until just now* 

Mindful
by Mary Oliver

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle

in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for -
to look, to listen,

to lose myself
inside this soft world -
to instruct myself
over and over

in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant -
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help

but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -
the untrimmable light

of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

I remember the very first time my eyes alighted on these words. I was housesitting, and taped to the mirror of the bathroom was this poem. Certain words had been underlined, others circled, I read them all marveling at their truth. I understood completely why, out of the millions out there, these people had placed this poem in such a place that they would be reminded of it's message every day. The message that in all things, no matter how small, there is beauty and room for miracles.

When I first moved into my own apartment I hung a copy in a frame by my bathroom mirror for a daily visual reminder, but in truth I had committed these words to memory long before. I can honestly say that in the past four years there have only been a few days where I have not seen something that has caused those first few lines to run skittering through my thoughts. Often I grab hold of them and carry on silently repeated each word coming to rest only after that last syllable's echo. And as the poem says, it is normally something most consider mundane and often fail to even see that sparks this little ritual.

Like the silver cobweb in the corner of my building shining in sunrise as I stepped outside this morning, or the fluttering air encircling a flock of birds rising suddenly in unison into the blue afternoon sky. There were the early fall leaves that glowed red fire as the sun began setting, and the fall air full of that crisp freshness that only exists this time of year.

Normally it is only the comings and goings of nature that bring me time and again back to these verses. But I know that it's message can be found in all aspects of life, those small daily blessings that we all sometimes take for granted. Like the way Faelina was curled up in the crook of my neck this morning, her purrs the first sound to welcome back from a night lost in dreams. Or steam from my beloved cinnamon apple spice tea floating upward in soft swirls quietly beckoning with it's sweet scent. It's in the warm comfort that came with pulling on my favorite sweater after a walk in the cold air, the delight delivered at the feel of a book in my hand and the rustling of each new page I turned. And it was the rush of simple bliss that filled me when I took that first sip of my most favorite coffee.

Life lately often has me feeling frazzled and full of unanswered questions. I am more than a little overwhelmed as I work to get everything done for my move, and when trying to reconcile my ever growing pile of bills with a bank account that shrinks daily. But for all that I still know, and am reminded daily, that I live a life filled with immeasurable blessings. I continue to be one of the luckiest people on the planet. I hope that is something I never forget. 

~~~~

Two other things happened today that I do not consider to be common, ordinary, or very drab. In fact I view them as rather extraordinary. The first was getting to see, after 10 months, a friend that I made while at Mercy. I have been told by many people this year that I have been brave and strong and an inspiration in my efforts to fight this eating disorder. Compared to this young woman though, I am nothing. From the beginning she has wowed me by the way she has fought to pull herself out from the hell she has been through and I continue to be in awe the strength and commitment to her recovery she shows each and every day. She is the very epitome of real inspiration and I am so proud to know her; beyond thankful I can call her a friend. And I think it was seeing her again that made the second extraordinary thing possible.

She lives in New Hampshire, so I had driven down to Portsmouth to meet her. On a recommendation from her friend we walked into the doors of Breaking New Grounds in search of coffee and after some deliberation ordered a maple americano (for me) and a pumpkin spice cappuccino (for her). We each also picked out one of their cookies. I'd gone with the classic chocolate chip (after pointing out they were missing the all important peanut butter cookie) and broke off small pieces sometimes dipping them in my coffee before taking a bite while at other times enjoying the plain deliciousness of just the cookie itself. We finished our cookies and coffee, talked, laughed, walked around Portsmouth for a bit, and then stopped into Breaking New Grounds before parting so I could get another coffee for the road. It wasn't until I was back on the highway, with my music blasting and the cold air from my open window raising goosebumps of happiness on my arms that I realized I had eaten that entire cookie without an ounce of regret or a single drop of guilt from her. For most of you reading this experiencing such a thing might seen incredibly common and ordinary, I hope so at least. But for me, most days, second guessing myself for eating even a piece of bread, an extra tablespoon of oats, or the addition of an apple to a meal is commonplace. For me eating a chocolate chip cookie and feeling nothing but joy and pleasure hasn't happened in more than two years. This doesn't mean that I am not cured of my fear of cookies, but it was an giant sized step in that direction and I am so grateful for it.

As I sit here writing this now, a third rather spectacular event took place. When I started the night was dark and a a clear, pearl, glowing moon was rising upward. Every few minutes though I peeked out my window and saw it slowly transform into a dark red orb before blending into the midnight darkness. You all know how much I love the moon – full, new, or otherwise, and this was a completely new experience for me. One that was thrilling, exciting, and the perfect end to day filled with beautiful miracles.