“Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
~ Mary Oliver

Tucked within a poem series simply called ‘Sometimes’, Mary Oliver offers these four lines, these instructions for living. Over a lifetime we receive many people’s opinions for living life. I am thinking of all those who are donning graduation caps and gowns these May days. Whether graduating from preschool or high school or college, advice for how to live this thing we call life will flow from well meaning speakers. I have been one of those and know the gift and challenge of trying to shape words that might mean something to people sitting in those odd, yet traditional shrouds of swishy fabric. If only I had read these thirteen words before I, no doubt, bored a group of high school seniors on the night of their graduation.

Every day my life is filled with distractions. Is yours? The act of paying attention is an art. An art I have been trying to perfect for some time. While I know it is as elusive as my being able to play a Chopin concerto or dance in the ballet, I keep practicing. The message I continue to send myself is that this life goal may never be completely accomplished but with intentional practice I might actually get better at it.

And so each day, I vow to pay attention. More and more. More often. With greater intention. With a fiercer intensity. And the month of May is such a fabulous time to be about the work of paying attention. The world around is coming alive and being so bold in making a show. At our home we have been living in ‘iris season’ as the color purple in a myriad of tones is shooting forth color into the world. Whole days could be spent staring into the face of an iris. We have also been holding our breath as the first lupine blooms a brilliant pink in a slow meditative way from its bottom blossoms to the tips of its cone shape. All this while other sweet, less showy flowers begin their summer lives near by.

In the air over these works of art birds fly and sing and swoop. Paying attention leans into astonishment. At their ability to take to the wind, something I cannot do without the help of a multi-ton vehicle. At their sheer beauty and diversity…..feathers of simplicity and color which causes my heart to pull in my chest. At their vulnerability and fragility yet boldness in making music and risking life and wing to fuel themselves with food and feed their young.

Paying attention and being astonished in the month of May can be a full time job. In addition to the flora and fowl, there are children to be observed. How they open themselves to the freedom of warm weather, shedding the clothing that held them captive in winter, the sound and sight of their bare feet,much larger than a few months ago, as they make a flat, flapping sound on concrete. And there are the first foods that are arriving, greens and reds and earthy tasting. And the feel of the sun. And the smell of rain. And the morning mist it creates.

And so I am telling you about it. Because I can. And after all, isn’t this the role of the human? To be present to the glory of Creation, to marvel at the gift of Creator and then to spread the gospel of it all? I think so.

I think so.