on living my "one wild and precious life”

The Summer Day

by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean-

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

You've probably heard that I've been mysteriously ill since February, a condition I will heretofore refer to only as the Plague. No one seems to be able to figure out what's causing my symptoms or how to treat them. Basically, I feel like I have the flu most of the time. Weak. Dizzy. Nauseated. Sometimes I pass out when I stand up. Sometimes that happens at church, as I'm trying to stealthily sneak out of Gospel Doctrine to have a coughing fit in peace.

Since February, I've lost a lot of weight. As great as that sounds, I've also lost a lot of hair. Flat warts have spread all over my face. My cognitive ability has been effected as well. Which means I've had a bad case of ADD, burning dinners, forgetting children, and creating chaos. Not to mention the writer's block. It's been a horrible nine months.

And yet.

The best months of my life, too. The Plague, along with a bony bum, brittle hair and warty face, has brought me a decadent array of the richest blessings. More than I can understand or comprehend. More time for listening and being still. More time for reasoning together. More time for reading (and discovering the poet Mary Oliver, another blessing). More time pondering mortality and the purpose of my precious life. More time to hear the wind blow low and whisper through the pines and to watch dark clouds roll over  mountain peaks and more time to sit in the glow of a rainbow sherbet sunset.

More bowing and knee bending.

Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

I don't know if I'll fully recover physically. But inside, I am brand new. For now, when I wake up, I look out my window and like Mary Oliver, I say: good morning, good morning, good morning. I'm going to put my lips to the world and live my life.


Mornings at Blackwater
by Mary Oliver

For years, every morning, I drank
from Blackwater Pond.
It was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,
the feet of ducks.

And always it assuaged me
from the dry bowl of the very far past.

What I want to say is
that the past is the past,
and the present is what your life is,
and you are capable
of choosing what that will be,
darling citizen.

So come to the pond,
or the river of your imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.
And live
your life.

truth in fiction

a friend of mine [oh, hi, jenni] just asked her blog readers what our opinions were on age recommendations as a part of a book review.

and it immediately got me thinking about a related subject. how much darkness is okay in a novel? how many bad words? how much sexual innuendo or content? consider the following:

-we read A THOUSAND SPLENDID SUNS in my neighborhood book group and a few of the ladies took offense at the ugliness in the novel and suggested we should only read books published by DESERET BOOK.

-another friend brought back a few books i had loaned to her and said she just couldn't finish them because of the language in them. books i love. a friend i love.

-i told casey anne (who is 12) that she couldn't read a book because of the content until she was older.

-consider this excerpt from NORTHERN LIGHT by jennifer donnelly:

"it seems to me that there are books that tell stories, and then there are books that tell truths...the first kind makes you cheerful and contented, but the second kind shakes you up...why do writers make things sugary when life isn't that way...why don't they tell the truth? why don't they tell how a pigpen looks after the sow's eaten her own children? or how it is for a girl when her baby won't come out? or that cancer has a smell to it?...why doesn't anyone tell you that?"

my first novel is the sugary kind. in my current project, i am attempting to tell truths. MY truths. the emotional truth of addiction and prodigality and shame. and there is drug abuse and swearing and ugliness. and i've wondered why i have that all inside of me and why i feel a compulsion to write it down. because i also believe this:

everything we read stays with us, effects the level to which we can recognize and respond to the spirit. when we spend our time with filth, we lose that precious influence. i think this is a good and valid reason for censoring what we read and what our children read.

HOWEVER—and this is a huge however—i think the written word is at its most powerful when it contains truth. and how can you show the power of redemption, of forgiveness, the triumph over darkness and the beauty of returning to the light if there was no mistake made? no darkness followed into? no pigpen mired in? what power would the parable of the prodigal son have been with no prodigal and only the faithful son that stayed home at his father's side?

my favorite books will always contain a bit of that darkness, a bit of that rawness and grittiness because it makes the resolution that much more bright and beautiful. and to me, true.

REVOLUTION by jennifer donnelly

i know i already posted today, but i really wanted to share this book with you. it's for music lovers, writers, historical fiction lovers, anyone who loves a good coming-of-age story. and no, you can't borrow my copy because i am going to reread and reread until i figure out how donnelly does it.

REVOLUTION by jennifer donnelly

stunning, heart-breaking, masterful prose. a book about a troubled teen, riddled with guilt, with only her music helping her hold on to her sanity. donnelly is a master of the metaphor, one any writer would do well to study for her sheer writerly-crafing-genius, but she is also so much more. she takes a wounded, imperfect character, makes her grief, guilt, paranoia, and rage real for the reader, and then leads us on an incredible journey to healing, hope and peace. with cleverness, subtlety, and judiciousness.

if this were a movie it would be rated "r" for language and a few references to substance abuse—but in my opinion, totally worth the read and i wouldn't hesitate to recommend it to anyone 14 and up.

early christmas

friends!

we are headed to arizona for the holidays and are anticipating the early arrival of santa at our house this year. one of my favorite things about being a grownup is never having to wait if i don't want to. {did i write a previous post about needing to learn patience? hmmm...}

pictured is mine and don's christmas this year. me=shelves. him=giant t.v.

it still needs some work: the top is a mess of unmounted lights, empty frames and packaging. i'm waiting on some fun knobs from anthropologie, need to bring few more books up from downstairs, maybe add some accessories (?) or bookends, but in true rachel-coleman-fashion, i couldn't wait to show you.

look at all that space! a little part of me dies each time i look at it, room for our library to grow, our first real furniture that we didn't have to build ourselves or recover. i think i might be an official adult.

i am busy working on a graphic design job, quilts, teacher gifts, packing, cleaning, teaching piano, and also, most importantly, finishing my novel by the end of the year. so i may not be around as much. no wish lists or top ten favorite books unless i get those other things done first.

have a wonderful christmas if i don't check in before then.

love, rachel

interruption

i interrupt regular life, and the dutiful reading of my uncomfortably large to-be-read pile to enjoy the latest from my most favorite author, juliet marillier.

you can find me in my bed under my heated blanket.

confessional and a cry for help

it's about time for another confessional. i just love getting things off my chest.

1) remember how i did that post about school lunch? keep all that nutritional effort in mind. yesterday, the first thing micah said when he came home from school was, "awesome job on the lunch, mom! that was the best one ever." in the lunch that day: p.b.j. sandwich, apparently for the first time.

2) i'm feeling a little grinch-y about christmas this year. i just want to stay in my cave and be mean and all alone with my little black heart.

3) i have said "yes" too many times this last month when i should have said "no". so, before you ask, this month the answer is going to be "no".

4) i have a secret shame. pictured here are all the books i have purchased and NOT read. (and also all the books i have checked out at the library right now). please help. do you see any titles that you would consider a must-read? i am trying to commit to not requesting any more books from the library until i read the books i've already purchased. i'll let you know how i do.

i read banned books

artwork by hollie chastain

happy banned book week, dear readers, and what great timing. have you been reading the buzz about the book SPEAK by laurie halse anderson being called "soft pornography" by this man?

i rarely rant in public.

but.

does it sicken you as much as me? it's a book about a girl who learns how to speak up for herself. i have to agree with shannon hale on this one:

Let me clarify for those of you who haven't read Speak: it's about rape. A high school girl is raped. Rape, people. Pornography is "designed to stimulate sexual excitement." I am extremely sensitive to depictions of rape. I have turned off movies and put down books that even remotely crossed the line for me. Speak was not one of those. It's not graphic, it is definitely not designed to titillate. It is honest while being respectful. If someone reads that book and is stimulated by it, then they should SEE A THERAPIST.

This might be funny if it weren't so tragic and dangerous. This attitude is precisely what keeps girls silent when they should be speaking up, what makes them afraid of reporting rape, what lets perpetrators get away. Please, please don't confuse the issue. Rape is rape is rape. It is not sex. It is not sexy. It is violence. It is always wrong. Classifying this book as a kind of pornography is so insulting and damaging to survivors of rape. Ee gads. I'm so upset I'm contracting just thinking about it. Deep breaths, Mama.

in celebration of banned book week i would like the world to know how supremely grateful i am to live in a time and a place where i get to decide for myself and my family what content is appropriate (or not) for our house.

also, i think i'll read something on this list. i'm thinking DRACULA (which i've read, but it was a long time ago) or CANDIDE or PILLARS OF THE EARTH (which i haven't read). any suggestions?