November 13: "The Truro Bear," Cape Cod, Happiness

Mary Oliver on the mystery of happiness . . . 

The Truro Bear

by:  Mary Oliver

There's a bear in the Truro woods.

People have seen it--three or four,

or two, or one.  I think

of the thickness of the serious woods

around the dark bowls of the Truro ponds;

I think of the blueberry fields, the blackberry tangles,

the cranberry bogs.  And the sky

with its new moon, its familiar star-trails,

burns down like a brand-new heaven,

while everywhere I look on the scratchy hillsides

shadows seem to grow shoulders.  Surely

a beast might be clever, be lucky, move quickly

through the woods for years, learning to stay away

from roads and houses.  Common sense mutters:

it can't be true, it must be somebody's

runaway dog.  But the seed

has been planted, and when has happiness ever

required much evidence to begin

its leaf-green breathing?

I'm not sure where Truro is.  There is a Truro in Cornwall.  There is also a Truro in Massachusetts.  To make things even more complicated:  there's a Truro in Madison County in Iowa.  Then there's Truro Vineyards on Cape Cod.  Which Truro is being haunted by a bear in Mary Oliver's poem?  I don't know.

Oliver lived most of her life in Provincetown on northern tip of . . . (drumroll) . . . Cape Cod.  Perhaps that answers the question.  I'm still not convinced, though.  I suppose the most important thing to take away from "The Truro Bear" is that the bear seems to be an impossibility.  Something that defies common sense.  

Yet, as Oliver points out, happiness doesn't require common sense or evidence.  The seed of the idea of the Truro bear has been planted, and, once planted, it sprouts and grows.  The Truro bear begins taking leaf-green breaths.  Anything with a molecule of mystery in its DNA will assume a life of its own.  Including happiness.

Defining happiness is like defining the Truro bear.  Happiness doesn't require common sense or evidence.  Writing this blog post makes me happy.  Reading a beautiful poem does the same.  Chocolate.  My 15-year-old son coming downstairs to kiss me goodnight.  My daughter sending me a text that says she loves me.  Christmas lights on a neighbor's house.  All these things make me happy.

But what is happiness?

For the Truro bear, it's blueberry fields, blackberry tangles, and cranberry bogs.  New moons and star-trails.  The shoulder hunch of shadows in the hillsides.  All these things are Truro bear happiness, according to Oliver.  

The universe is full of Truro bears lumbering through starry woods.  Full of mystery.  Happiness.  From the time we are kids, we chase these Truro bears.  Because we all want to taste the sweetness of blueberry, feel the sun on our hairy backs.

Ever since Saint Marty drew his first leaf-green breath, he's been a bear hunter.