Poet Mary Oliver wrote:
I Worried
Mary Oliver
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.
This really spoke to me this week. As I look at photos of my three kidlets as babies, which was a handful, and seemingly a hundred, years ago, I wonder, ‘Did I do enough? Did I miss anything important? Did I make the right choices when it came to splitting my time between my soul and my little ones?’
Now that they are teens and young adults, I see them working, studying, finding their passions, and growing their friendships. There is rarely a meal with everyone at the table. Game nights and movies are saved for special occasions. But they are thriving, and that feeds oxygen into my tired veins.
So, I will let go of any worries, and as Mary recommended, I will take my old body out into the morning and sing.