Mary Oliver’s poems are imbued with the mystery and wonder of nature. They stem from her close and deep attention to the marvels she observes on her daily meditative walks in nature. Mary Oliver’s poetry and this wee snippet above remind me of school field trips to the rocky shore, when I was principal of Matahui School, where learning outside the classroom, and learning from nature, are central.
The very first activity for each child was to choose a comfortable position, somewhere on their own beside a rock pool, and they were to simply sit there – very quietly - very still - and they were to do nothing but observe their pool.
For five full minutes.
Which is a long time for a child to sit without moving or saying a word. In fact we would practise this at school beforehand in preparation for the outing.
For this was the key to unlocking the magic and wonder of the rocky shore for the children; for them to gain the most learning from the experience. As the observers sat there, as still and quiet as the rocks themselves, the sea life within each pool would decide that it was now safe for them to resume their daily business, and the pools would proceed to come to life. Myriads of sea life, normally unseen when people are clambering about on the rocks, would begin to move about in their own particular way, doing their own particular thing, for their own particular purpose. All shapes and sizes, some very tiny and easy to miss without paying close attention.
And there was so much else to notice within the rock pool - the intricate structures of the plant life, the details and colours of the rocks and shells. It was enthralling to watch, and once the show began, it was suddenly easier to simply sit and observe. It was a lesson in paying attention and mindfulness, and this was years before mindfulness became the catchphrase it is today.
The children learned so much more from this activity than the adaptive features of plants and animals. They also learned about the wonder and beauty of nature, the interdependence of the rock pool community with each other and their shared environment, and how important it is that we treat these rock pool ‘homes’ and their inhabitants with deep care and respect.
All very important universal understandings that apply on so many levels in the wider world beyond the rocky shore.
And so back to Mary Oliver, and her gift of observing and learning from nature and beautifully capturing and sharing important universal truths, as she does in her poem Invitation:
The very first activity for each child was to choose a comfortable position, somewhere on their own beside a rock pool, and they were to simply sit there – very quietly - very still - and they were to do nothing but observe their pool.
For five full minutes.
Which is a long time for a child to sit without moving or saying a word. In fact we would practise this at school beforehand in preparation for the outing.
For this was the key to unlocking the magic and wonder of the rocky shore for the children; for them to gain the most learning from the experience. As the observers sat there, as still and quiet as the rocks themselves, the sea life within each pool would decide that it was now safe for them to resume their daily business, and the pools would proceed to come to life. Myriads of sea life, normally unseen when people are clambering about on the rocks, would begin to move about in their own particular way, doing their own particular thing, for their own particular purpose. All shapes and sizes, some very tiny and easy to miss without paying close attention.
And there was so much else to notice within the rock pool - the intricate structures of the plant life, the details and colours of the rocks and shells. It was enthralling to watch, and once the show began, it was suddenly easier to simply sit and observe. It was a lesson in paying attention and mindfulness, and this was years before mindfulness became the catchphrase it is today.
The children learned so much more from this activity than the adaptive features of plants and animals. They also learned about the wonder and beauty of nature, the interdependence of the rock pool community with each other and their shared environment, and how important it is that we treat these rock pool ‘homes’ and their inhabitants with deep care and respect.
All very important universal understandings that apply on so many levels in the wider world beyond the rocky shore.
And so back to Mary Oliver, and her gift of observing and learning from nature and beautifully capturing and sharing important universal truths, as she does in her poem Invitation:
| Invitation Oh do you have time to linger for just a little while out of your busy and very important day for the goldfinches that have gathered in a field of thistles for a musical battle, to see who can sing the highest note, or the lowest, or the most expressive of mirth, or the most tender? Their strong, blunt beaks drink the air as they strive melodiously not for your sake and not for mine and not for the sake of winning but for sheer delight and gratitude-- believe us, they say, it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world. I beg of you, do not walk by without pausing to attend to this rather ridiculous performance. It could mean something. It could mean everything. It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: You must change your life. Mary Oliver |
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