"Love, love, love, says Percy.

And run as fast as you can

along the shining beach, or the rubble, or the dust.

Then, go to sleep.

Give up your body heat, your beating heart.

Then, trust."

~ Mary Oliver (I ask Percy How I should Live My Life (Ten))

I recently heard Mary Oliver read several of her poems, similar to this one, written for her dog Percy. She was a keynote speaker for the Search for Meaning Book Festival in Seattle, and her timing was impeccable. Her poetry has framed the beginning, middle, and ending of my short career as a hospital chaplain. What I have found in her descriptions of dogs and geese, roses and grass, even bugs and snakes, are love songs to the world. They invite me to pay attention to my surroundings, to find wonder in the small and simplest of things, and to trust the ground beneath my feet, and let go when its time to let go, even if I don't know what the outcome will be.

I am leaving Seattle to embark on a traveling meditation.