Tell Me, What Is It You Plan to Do with Your One Wild & Precious May?

Day one of Mary Oliver May, a daily reflection diary & activity challenge with the contemplative poet and more muses

Devotions: this is the name of the final collection of Mary Oliver’s poetry, and as I write this letter to you all on this first day of May, I can’t think of a more apt word to center on as we start this month.

Devotion is a word of overdetermined meaning for me, as both a devout Mary Oliver reader and as someone raised in a religious, Catholic circle. There are both beautiful and painful shadows of this word, and what it means to live a devoted life. Just for today, I want to focus on the beautiful shades of it.

The root of the word devotion comes from the meaning of “setting apart” as “by a vow.” It is a very old word, and over the centuries it has carried this meaning of dedication, focused, near sacred attending to one thing over a life. Devotion is not far away from the idea of any vow or promise of love, and brings to mind Mary Oliver’s wishes in the poem “When Death Comes”:

"When it's over, I want to say: all my life 
 I was a bride married to amazement. 
 I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms."

Mary Oliver’s work is often summarized as a study in close attention to the quotidian, often natural world. If you’ve ever read about her life history, you will know that some of this form of attending to the world was born from the need to positively connect as a child in a home that had discord and chaos within it where she grew up in Ohio. She has spoken of going to the woods even as a young girl, and finding that habit and connection with nature being something that through her own devotion to the practice saved her.

I cannot think of a better person to look to and live with for this time in the world in May of 2025. With pain, suffering, and need abounding, and chaos in leadership in the world, a misunderstanding of spending time with Mary Oliver would be that we are seeking escape, or seeking to romanticize when what we need to do is see darkness. I think this misunderstanding is the same as the general misunderstanding of some of her work or her life history, which is to not understand the power that joy and small delight strengthens us to more fully face the world, the darkness, and sustain a life of being present with all that is—good or bad.

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Today’s Poem:

When Death Comes, found in full here.

Today’s Reflection Prompt:

In When Death Comes, Mary shares an idea of the individuality of each life, saying:

“ I think of each life as a flower, as common as a field daisy, and as singular, and each name a comfortable music in the mouth, tending, as all music does, toward silence.”

What helps you remember your own life as singular, despite what is common or unremarkable about it? What makes it difficult to remember the having things in common is also about belonging and relating, and that being common is not the same as having no bright uniqueness?

Today’s Tiny Quest:

Go to a park or a neighborhood street you have not frequented lately. See if you might let yourself walk and look until you find a bit of nature that draws you to it, and notice the details. When you get home, look up what the nature is named, and even its history or meanings different cultures have attributed to it.

As always, thank you for time and attention here. I will see you in the chat here and tomorrow!

Merrily,

Margaret of Bad Art Every Day