Mornings at Blackwater
For years, every morning, I drank
from Blackwater Pond.
it was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,
the feet of ducks.
And always it assuaged me
from the dry bowl of the very far past.
What I want to say is
that the past is the past,
and the present is what your life is,
and you are capable
of choosing what that will be,
So come to the pond,
or the river of your imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,
and put your lips to the world.
And live your life.
Sometimes it seems so out of reach, that deep desire of the heart. What is it that I really want... Mary Oliver reminds me to live my life and to do that I need to find the river of my imagination or the harbor of my longing and know that I can choose. In fact, it is my dharma, my responsibility, my life purpose and I cannot escape from the choosing. Even not choosing is a kind of choosing.
I find myself at a sort of pause, an in-between, just finishing one phase and not quite ready for the next. With a heart full of gratitude, I begin this and each day present to each moment, full embodied and open to whatever unfolds.