Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way by Mary Oliver

LISTENING FOR YOUR INNER WISDOM THROUGH THE PRISM OF POETRY

The large tree trunk is on the left side of the photo. It's covered by invasive roots and moss. It's branches stretch out to the right of the photo under a canopy of bright green leaves with a yellow hue from the sun.

For this practice, settle into your space for 10-ish minutes of presence. Sometimes we can connect to the present moment by noticing what comes up in us as we read, listen, or view a “third thing” and reflecting on it. We may discover insight there, too, but we aren’t approaching the practice with the intention of an outcome. This practice is about entering into what’s happening right now, whatever that is.

Instructions (use them or skip them!):

  • What is it like inside you and around you in this moment?

    What do you notice about your breath?

    What do you notice about the physical space you are in?

    Is there anything you’d like to attend to before you begin?

  • Read the following quote (either silently or aloud) 1-2 times. Imagine the words being poured out into your hands. See if a couple of words linger that you can turn toward with curiosity.

  • What do you notice? Are there words or phrases that linger? Or perhaps you have a felt sense of the entire quote.

  • Read the quote again.

  • What do you wonder? As you hold what you noticed, or the entire poem, is there a question that arises in you? Is there a cascade of questions? Sometimes writing these down helps us gently excavate our inner landscape.

  • Bookmark it. Is there a word, phrase, or question you’d like to carry with you (in a journal, to explore in a conversation with a friend, to spiritual direction)?

  • Savoring & Appreciation. You took some moments to be present. This was the invitation. Whether or not you experienced something that sticks with you, consider savoring the experience and appreciating yourself for showing up.

 

“Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way”

If you’re John Muir you want trees to
live among. If you’re Emily, a garden
will do.
Try to find the right place for yourself.
If you can’t find it, at least dream of it.



When one is alone and lonely, the body
gladly lingers in the wind or the rain,
or splashes into the cold river, or
pushes through the ice-crusted snow.

Anything that touches.



God, or the gods, are invisible, quite
understandable. But holiness is visible,
entirely.



Some words will never leave God’s mouth,
no matter how hard you listen.



In all the works of Beethoven, you will
not find a single lie.



All important ideas must include the trees,
the mountains, and the rivers.



To understand many things you must reach out
of your own condition.



For how many years did I wander slowly
through the forest. What wonder and
glory I would have missed had I ever been
in a hurry!



Beauty can both shout and whisper, and still
it explains nothing.



The point is, you’re you, and that’s for keeps.


― Mary Oliver in
Felicity

 

Contemplate the image. You may try a similar exercise with the image above. What do you notice? What do you wonder? Are you drawn to the image? Do you resist it?

Would you like some company or gentle guidance as you listen for wisdom and explore new ways of engaging with your soul? Kirsten offers spacious accompaniment and trauma-informed spiritual direction. I’d love to hear what’s stirring in you and meet with you for a free exploration session.

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