From Mary Oliver’s “Upstream,” a
book of essays:
“You must not ever stop being whimsical.
“And you must not, ever, give someone else the responsibility for your
life.
“I don’t mean it’s easy or
assured; there are the stubborn stumps of shame, grief that remains unsolvable
after all these years, a bag of stones that goes with one wherever one goes and
however the hour may call for dancing and for light feet.
“But there is, also, the summoning
world, the admirable energies of the world, better than anger, better than
bitterness and, because more interesting, more alleviating. And there is the
thing that one does, the needle one plies, the work, and within that work a
chance to take thoughts that are hot and formless and to place them slowly and
with meticulous effort into some shapely heat-retaining form…”
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