The Art of Creation: The Shining World

What I Have Learned So Far

by Mary Oliver

Meditation is old and honorable, so why should I
not sit, every morning of my life, on the hillside,
looking into the shining world? Because, properly
attended to, delight, as well as havoc, is suggestion.
Can one be passionate about the just, the
ideal, the sublime, and the holy, and yet commit
to no labor in its cause? I don’t think so.

All summations have a beginning, all effect has a
story, all kindness begins with the sown seed.
Thought buds toward radiance. The gospel of
light is the crossroads of — indolence, or action.

Be ignited, or be gone.

      from New and Selected Volume Two, Mary Oliver (Beacon Press, 2005)

In this poem by Mary Oliver (1935 – 2019), we join the poet on the hillside, looking down into the "shining world." In this "shining world," perhaps we see dew sparking on grass, perhaps the sun hits a thread of spider's silk, perhaps the back of a beetle glistens with iridescent color. Every day, from this hillside overlook, there is something that can bring delight if we are alive and observant to the beauty around us.

So, what does the Because imply in this poem? Is it an answer to why I shouldn't sit on the hillside every morning? Or does it support this idea of sitting idly all morning because this sort of "meditation" will lead to action? Much of Oliver's poetry makes clear that she believed attentive idleness to be a worthy use of one's time. Also, this delight "properly attended to" will, she states, lead naturally to action. Thus, I believe the "because" works two ways in the poem: it establishes both the necessity (as well as the joy) of that attentive observation in a place and affirms the reality that this sort of immersion precipitates action.

In the same way that a spark begins a fire and the fire proceeds to definitive results, the spark of delight leads to passion and passion leads to action on behalf of what has caused the delight. The poem draws a line that connects delight and labor, observation and action, passion and safe keeping.

When I consider the things that I care about, this rings true. I recognize this in my love for creation and in my work here at Circlewood. When I am attentive to the sound of the frog chorus hidden in the forest floor, when I watch the golden maple leaves do their twisting final dance, when I let the rain fall on my skin so that it tingles, my delight in these things ignites a passion to protect this beloved creation. It spurs me to unwrap the invasive ivy that is choking the maple tree; it prompts me to write about a bee highway in Norway; it motivates me to plant native food sources for wildlife and people in place of the Himalayan blackberries that only very reluctantly yield space.

Delight feeds my passion for this organization and the work I do on its behalf. Without this kind of delight, the passion would start to fade and the work can wend its way toward drudgery. I once hosted a Morning of Listening and Attentiveness on the Circlewood land because I believe that attentiveness and delight are essential foundations in the work of eco-discipleship.

It isn't enough to feel the delight of something one time only. A spark of passion felt once is not enough to sustain a lifetime of action. Continuing to make time and give attention in order to experience delight in someone or something is necessary in the thriving of a relationship. That passion must be nurtured, which may be as simple as "sitting on a hillside" and "looking down into the shining world." Attentiveness sustains the passion.

For those striving to follow Jesus, they know it takes consistent feeding of that love to form a life-long relationship that remains passionate and lively in its desire and practice. A marriage or friendship must be attended to with care over the long term; passion must be rekindled over and over throughout a lifetime if that passion and love are going to last.

But the passion is not the final realization. Rather, it is the thought, the sown seed, the beginning that becomes complete in summation, kindness, radiance. What does it mean to "properly attend" to delight? I think it means in part to meditate and consider what you are perceiving and then to commit to some form of labor that benefits the person or thing you delight in. Whether that step is minor or major, it moves the one who delights out of indolence and into action. As Oliver says in the final line of the poem, "Be ignited, or be gone."

Things other than delight can motivate one to action—for instance, the "havoc" referenced in the poem. But I believe havoc is a less reliable motivator of sustainable action than delight. Havoc can prompt action out of guilt, but guilt does not tend to generate energy; it depletes it. And a constant depletion of energy is not the route to sustainability.

When have you recently looked down into the shining world and been delighted? Where do you see delight enabling a passion that is active and productive in your life? What do you think it means to "property attend" to delight?

I would love to hear your thoughts. You can leave a comment below or email me at louise.conner@circlewood.online.

You can often find Mary Oliver's New and Collected Poems at your local bookstore or can also find both volumes online here. (This poem was included in Volume 2)

Louise