Unwelcome Worry
There seems to be a very loud, unwelcome worry in the world in which we live today. A constant, overwhelming hum of doom and despair that nests in the back of our minds, not to mention the realization that everything feels completely out of our hands, mixed with the knowledge that it doesn’t have to be this way, has begun an uproar of lashed-out emotions, all valid. What do we do?
I have my own lenses through which I see the world, and that is my faith, but I realize that not everyone has the same background as I. We are all trying to understand our lives, and that is the common denominator, and that is how I see it. All I would like to do is encourage.
Saturday, I went for a hike on some local trails that I haven’t walked in a long while. I packed up my camera along with a very large thermos of hot coffee, and hit the road, and the trail for that matter. Arriving at the trailhead, I tried to remember what the trail consisted of from the last time I had visited it. I believe it was 3 years ago, so I am sure there are probably new trails connecting.
The first thing I noticed was the dark contrast of the tree bark from the prime pines, highlighted by the rich, vivid growth of moss clinging to crevices. Moss is one of my favorite things; I would have it everywhere, growing on my house, in my garden pathways, everywhere. There was something about the bare trees, free of their leaves, that seemed to make one question whether it was cold. Impossible with the blanket of moss.
The river wasn’t completely still; it rippled on the top, it seemed to me, only to just prove that it could on a windless day. It was only me engrossed in a world so natural and ancestrally familiar, and it was a comfort. The paths wind through the trees there, sharp and gradual, allowing one to see different angles of the same view. This was perfect to capture some detailed photographs.
I realized throughout the walk that my mind was still and focused only on seeing the beauty in my surroundings. Stopping constantly finding myself saying “Wow” to no one but myself and God. It is a joy to be fully present, still in mind, and peacefully steady.
Do you read poetry? I do. I love the depth that words can bring to our emotions and thoughts through a thread of rhythmic musical beats. I thought of Mary Oliver, a poet who lived from 1935 to 2019, who really brings nature to heart. There is a poem and a thought from “Devotions – The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver” that I recently re-read. It is truly hard to choose any of her poems, but this one in particular really seems to settle within my bones today.
“Don’t Hesitate” By Mary Oliver
“If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyways, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of it’s plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.”
“Joy is not made to be a crumb.” My goodness, there is hope. There is a measure of goodness that cannot compare to evil in this world. I don’t know where you are in your life as you read this, but you can have joy. “Don’t Hesitate.”
Saturday was a day of noticing for me. I took note of the small and large wonders of my time here in this world so far. I stopped and felt the rough bark of an oak that had seen decades of the same view I was walking in. There was vividness in the middle of winter months, and I know I am kept in the same way as the sparrow that flies from branch to branch.
