June 6: "When I Am Among the Trees," Price Tags, My Ariel

Mary Oliver's tree lesson . . . 

When I Am Among the Trees

by:  Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,

especially the willows and the honey locust,

equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,

they give off such hints of gladness.

I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,

in which I have goodness, and discernment,

and never hurry through the world

     but walk slowly, and how often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves

and call out, "Stay awhile."

The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, "It's simple," they say,

"and you too have come

into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled

with light, and to shine."

Humans love putting values on things and people and places.  Land isn't just land--it's real estate.  People aren't just people--they're assets to employers or churches or communities.  Trees aren't just trees--they're lumber and paper and hardwood flooring.  Everything/one has a price tag.

Mary Oliver sees the value of things a little differently.  It's not about how much money a person earns or the sticker price on a car.  We are all so preoccupied by chasing hope or happiness or fulfillment.  The chase becomes more important than the actual goal.  Say that you've always wanted to visit the Grand Canyon, and you finally get your chance.  Only, you drive by it in a car travelling 100 miles per hour.  No stopping to admire the view or take pictures.  Just speed and glimpses of beauty.

That's what we have to learn from trees, according to Oliver.  Trees don't chase sunlight or rain.  They just stay rooted in place and are filled with light.  They shine with the goodness all around them.

Really, that's what we all came into the world to do, too.  Slow down.  Listen to the leaves.  Find the light.  And shine.  

I'm just as guilty of the next person when it comes to moving too fast.  Most of my days are blurs of activity, from the time I wake up in the morning to the time I collapse on the couch and fall asleep watching some movie I've seen a million times.  I don't stop moving until exhaustion stops me.

But tonight, I slowed down and stopped.  My daughter wanted to see the new live-action The Little Mermaid with her parents and brother.  She grew up watching the animated version over and over.  I think it was because Ariel was the only princess with red hair.  And she was a mermaid.  My daughter has auburn hair, and she's always loved being in the water.  Ariel was her jam. 

As the lights in the theater dimmed and the overture of the film started, my daughter leaned her head on my shoulder and whispered, "Thank you for coming to this with me, Daddy."

That's it.  In the middle of a crowded move theater, I was filled with light.  I shined.

Every once in a while, I need a reminder like this.  Like Oliver says, I am usually so distant from the hope of myself most of the time.  I lose sight of what is really important.  What makes me happy.

Tonight, Saint Marty's daughter was the tree stirring its leaves, calling out, "Stay awhile."  And it was priceless.