In her poem “In Blackwater Woods,” Mary Oliver includes these lines:
“To live in this world you must be able to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.”
Her words make me think about both the impermanence and the beauty of life. What a complicated journey, to engage fully with that which is ultimately transient! We have the capacity to love deeply even knowing that the object of our love is mortal, just as we are.
Wherever there is life, death is inevitable.
As I think about this section of her poem one of the things that comes to my mind is the way I, and many people, fall head-over-heels in love with a pet. It is an uncomplicated love. It seems to settle directly into our heart tissue without the kinds of fears that so often temper human-to-human relationships. We feel the sublime connection with an animal companion; we look into each other’s eyes, we exude gratitude, tenderness, joy. We can play and cuddle without self-consciousness. We trust each other deeply and completely. That love feels pure and beautiful, soul-saving really. And then mortality enters. We have to let our beloved go. If you are anything like I am, that loss feels unbearable. The love remains always; the beloved dies as will we. We have to let go. For many, the experience of such love, even though transient, is one of the greatest gifts in being alive. The pain of the loss is an homage to love. And you find that you can and do love again even knowing the mortality of it. Has this also been your experience?
