Poetry

 I recently listed to a book of poetry as an audiobook, read by the author. It was one of my favorite authors, and one of my favorite poems was included. 

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Mary Oliver has a special place in my heart, as someone who speaks of both mental health and nature. But I want to pull out one particular verse, the last one, which means a lot to me:

 Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

I think it is so important to have purpose in life. And I think a lot about my purpose. I believe that my purpose is to educate and empower girls and women. I've done this over the years, in different ways, and I do it now, in my job. 

So with my wild and precious life, I choose to spend time with children, help them learn and grow, and maybe, just maybe, make a difference in their lives.