{"id":6596,"date":"2019-11-08T08:58:42","date_gmt":"2019-11-08T15:58:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/?p=6596"},"modified":"2019-11-08T08:59:16","modified_gmt":"2019-11-08T15:59:16","slug":"mary-oliver-yes-no-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/2019\/11\/08\/mary-oliver-yes-no-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Mary Oliver – Yes! No!"},"content":{"rendered":"

Yes! No!
\nby Mary Oliver<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

How necessary it is to have opinions! I think the spotted trout
\nlilies are satisfied, standing a few inches above the earth. I
\nthink serenity is not something you just find in the world,
\nlike a plum tree, holding up its white petals.<\/em><\/p>\n

The violets, along the river, are opening their blue faces, like
\nsmall dark lanterns.<\/em><\/p>\n

The green mosses, being so many, are as good as brawny.<\/p>\n

How important it is to walk along, not in haste but slowly,
\nlooking at everything and calling out<\/p>\n

Yes! No! The<\/p>\n

<\/em><\/em>swan, for all his pomp, his robes of grass and petals, wants
\nonly to be allowed to live on the nameless pond. The catbrier
\nis without fault. The water thrushes, down among the sloppy
\nrocks, are going crazy with happiness. Imagination is better
\nthan a sharp instrument. To pay attention, this is our endless
\nand proper work.<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/a> \u2014 from White Pine: Poems and Prose Poems<\/a>, by Mary Oliver<\/font><\/p>\n


\n\/ Image by Thomas Mueller<\/a> \/<\/em><\/font><\/p>\n

There is so much I like about this poem.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m not so certain myself how necessary it is to have opinions. Perhaps Mary Oliver\u2019s opinions and her Yesses and Noes are really about being present with intentionality, making a choice to be there. I think she is saying something about entering the world with awareness.<\/p>\n

How important it is to walk along, not in haste but slowly,
\nlooking at everything and calling out<\/i><\/p>\n


\n<\/i>Yes! No!<\/i><\/p>\n

And that\u2019s what I really like about the poem, the sense that the supreme act of a conscious being is to be aware, and to be here, alive and quiet in the undefined moment.<\/p>\n

The<\/i><\/p>\n

<\/i>swan, for all his pomp, his robes of grass and petals, wants
\nonly to be allowed to live on the nameless pond.<\/i><\/p>\n

The \u201cnameless pond.\u201d To that, I definitely say, Yes! That single phrase nails me to the spot each time I read it. The thinking mind reflexively wants to name everything it sees, and in naming it, claiming it, defining it. Labeling a thing or place, we then think we have seen it, and so ignore it in order to move on to the next thing to be named. Naming is a way of protecting ourselves from direct encounter.<\/p>\n

What is it like to encounter a pond with no name? Not even called \u201cpond\u201d? A landscape without labels is wide open, mysterious, and magical. The swan glides through that world every day and needs no names to make it real. In some sense, naming the pond diminishes it, even for the swan, since it has then been claimed as human territory. This is why we need those wild places, unnamed spaces, where the swan can float and the thrush can dance in the unfenced mystery. Where we, wild seekers, can wander in wordless witness.<\/p>\n

To live within the undefined moment, within an unnamed landscape, requires a powerful will, choosing to resist the socially trained reflex to label and categorize everything and, thus, not really encounter any of it. To simply be requires one to be a rebel. Rather than going along unconsciously with what we have been taught, we must say either Yes! or No! so we can then actually experience this mysterious life revealing itself to us in every moment.<\/p>\n

To pay attention, this is our endless
\nand proper work.<\/i><\/p>\n


\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/a>Recommended Books: Mary Oliver<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n
<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
New and Selected Poems<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nWhy I Wake Early<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nDream Work<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nHouse of Light<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nThirst: Poems<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
More Books >><\/a><\/i><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

<\/center>
\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\"Mary<\/a><\/td>\n\nMary Oliver<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

US (1935 \u2013 2019) Timeline<\/a>
\nSecular or Eclectic<\/a><\/a>
\n<\/a><\/a><\/em><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

<\/p>\n

Mary Oliver was born in Cleveland, Ohio in 1935.<\/p>\n

As a young writer, Mary Oliver was influenced by Edna St. Vincent Millay and, in fact, as a teenager briefly lived in the home of the recently deceased Millay, helping to organize Millay\u2019s papers.<\/p>\n

Mary Oliver attended college at Ohio State University, and later at Vassar College.<\/p>\n

Mary Oliver\u2019s poetry is deeply aware of the natural world, particularly the birds and trees and ponds of her adopted state of Massachusetts.<\/p>\n

Her collection of poetry \u201cAmerican Primitive\u201d won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1984.<\/p>\n

More poetry by Mary Oliver<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Yes! No! by Mary Oliver How necessary it is to have opinions! I think the spotted trout lilies are satisfied, standing a few inches above the earth. I think serenity is not something you just find in the world, like a plum tree, holding up its white petals. The violets, along the river, are opening […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[1276,2310,93,1490,493,2309,1752,1333,492],"class_list":["post-6596","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-attention","tag-intention","tag-mary-oliver","tag-nameless","tag-no","tag-opinion","tag-undefined","tag-will","tag-yes"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6596","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6596"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6596\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6598,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6596\/revisions\/6598"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6596"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6596"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6596"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}