My Mind and Wild Geese

When I was younger, I wanted to be an astronaut with all my heart and soul. I wanted to get on a rocket and zoom out of Earth's atmosphere, into outer space. I still want to be an astronaut, however improbable it might sound. Whenever I look at the stars, read a book or watch a documentary on astronomy, I always feel insignificant. When I’m in the worst of moods, I comfort myself  by thinking about all the people who have it worse off. My despair is nothing compared to the horrible things happening in this world. So why should I feel it at all? My feelings, my planet, my solar system are all insignificant next to the rest of the universe.

But Mary Oliver doesn't  want to dismiss the individual’s despair. On the other hand, she seems to acknowledge it fully. The first few lines of the poem are breathtakingly intimate. She speaks of the despair of the individual, creating an image of open arms in my mind, welcoming me and all the evil and good inside me.

The next lines: “Meanwhile the world goes on,” suddenly expanded my whole vision of the poem. From something that seemed stunningly intimate, the poem expanded to... Well, pretty much everything. Mary Oliver goes on to create a breathtaking image right in front of my eyes. Mountains, rivers, deep trees, the sun and rain moving across the landscape and geese flying across the sky, and before I know it, that dreadful feeling of being utterly insignificant seems to be creeping up my spine again. What am I next to this divine beauty?

And then, with a few simple lines, Mary Oliver brings me into this painting.

“Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination.

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.”

And there, my feeling of insignificance vanishes. Because maybe I’m a part of this world. Because maybe along with a million others things, I make the world what it is. Because without me or without you or without that ugly little scratch on your computer screen, the world would be different. So maybe we’re not all that insignificant. Maybe the significance I look for so desperately doesn’t have to be at the end of an eyeball-socket-tearing rocket ride to outer space, maybe it’s right here. Where I am, where you are, where anything is. Right here, smack in the middle of the family of things.

- Shikha Sreenivas