June 24: "Wild Wild," Love Chooses Us, Difficult Journey

Mary Oliver's definition of love . . .

Wild Wild

by:  Mary Oliver

This is what love is:

the dry rose bush the gardener, in his pruning, missed

suddenly bursts into bloom.

A madness of delight; an obsession.

A holy gift, certainly.

But often, alas, improbable.

Why couldn't Romeo have settled for someone else?

Why couldn't Tristan and Isolde have refused

the shining cup

which would have left peaceful the whole kingdom?

Wild sings the bird of the heart in the forests

     of our lives.

Over and over Faust, standing in the garden, doesn't know

anything that's going to happen, he only sees

     the face of Marguerite, which is irresistible.

And wild, wild sings the bird.

Love is a force that can't be controlled.  That's Oliver's point here.  Romeo doesn't choose to fall in love with Juliet.  Tristan doesn't choose Isolde and devastation.  Love is a wild thing in the forests of our lives.  A bird that keeps singing in the feral trees under the feral sun and stars.

We don't choose love.  Love chooses us.

Faithful disciples of this blog know the struggles my wife and I have faced during our marriage.  Mental illness.  Addiction.  It has been a difficult journey.  A lot of our family members, at different points during the past 30 years, haven't understood the reasons I've stood by my wife.  In a culture that sometimes treats marriages and relationships like paper plates, to be used and thrown away.

(Please don't misunderstand me.  I'm not saying there aren't legitimate reasons to leave a long-term relationship or marriage.  Physical abuse.  Mental abuse.  Emotional abuse.  Sexual abuse.  Drug abuse.  All of these are deal breakers.  I'm not judging anyone.  This post is about me and my relationship with the woman I've loved for over 30 years.)

I have stayed with my wife because we don't choose love.  Love chooses us, as I've said.  I wish I'd read Oliver's poem about 20 years ago, when the difficulties entered our marriage.  Then--when people asked me the question "Why are you staying with her?--I could have just handed them a copy of "Wild Wild" and walked away.

Love isn't always easy.  Sustaining love is damn hard.  It is all the things Oliver lists:  a madness or delight, an obsession, a holy improbable gift.

Saint Marty hears that wild wild bird song all the time.