Love what you love
Every morning I read the obituaries in my local paper. I like to hear the particular details of how a person is remembered.
He started tending cattle at 8. * Her cinnamon rolls were the envy of all her friends * He skied down the mountain on homemade skis with an aspen pole brake. (all from the Durango Herald).
Recently, I read an obituary that said: his family says his passions were cooking and collecting cast iron cookware. Oh, I thought, how lucky it is to have passions, to simply love what you love.
It’s like taking out an insurance policy against boredom, depression, restlessness.
Perhaps your house is messy and the breakfast dishes still haven’t been washed. Perhaps imperfection is the soundtrack to your life, to which you sing along laughing and unafraid. Perhaps it’s enough to spend the month of June watching pole beans split open, sticking out their green, dragon tongues.
Or to spy calendula blossoms flagging down honeybees and butterflies with circular parades of stamens.
It doesn’t matter what you love – honeybees, cast iron cookware, cobbling words together on your blog, the thrill of the opening notes of a concert, spotting antlers in the forest newly cast from an elk’s head. It only matters that you’re here, loving it.
The poet Mary Oliver says:
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
It is enough to love what you love; really, it is everything.
Photos: grape buds, hops vine, chive flower, potato, green bean, calendula, apples, tomatoes