The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
-- Mary Oliver
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Nice poem - and very true.
ReplyDeleteAnd yet, it always seems easier to save others than myself. Maybe it is too hard to admit that I am the one who needs saving.
ReplyDeleteIn Codependents Anonymous I meet so many who have lost themselves in thinking they are helping others when actually they are trying to get the praise of others for themselves by the deeds they do. I truly believe that I can help myself only and that any deed I do which others might think is selfless is actually the most selfish act I can do.
ReplyDeleteOne day, I told my wife in all sincerity, "I'm sure glad you can take care of yourself. I've got all I can do to take care of myself." This is the truest love I've ever known.
Here's good story a man told on himself in a local column. He said that when he met his wife she was a real reader, and she resisted his advances for a long while because she valued her times alone. One day, after they were married, they were sitting in the living room reading when she looked over at him and sighed contentedly, "This is almost as good as being alone."