I worried

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.

Yet another Mary Oliver poem, and yet one that speaks to me today. I worry. I worry all the time. And yet, today’s meditation (thank you, Calm, for your 2019 challenge, which is bringing me some new favorites!) and this poem and another one I found… all highlight the importance of recognizing, owning, and then ditching my worries. 

I am working on this. I am trying, but it is hard. It is always hard for we who worry incessantly. And it’s not easy for the non-worriers in our lives to understand this. 

I am worried about family things, relationship issues, the weather, my work, and on and on and on. I could just worry all the time, but I am starting to learn (finally) how counterproductive and destructive that is. 

So I strive to achieve what Ms. Oliver seems to have, in her later years… 

More inspiration for a Monday, as always. Thank you, Mary, for your light and life. 

💙