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

Poet Mary Oliver is often quoted for this phrase: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” It’s a beautiful phrase, integrated into cards for graduates or those celebrating other life transitions. And yet, I wrestle with the sentiment. As a plan-filled 20-something, I had my life scripted so as not to waste time. My goals were defined to make sure I did not enter my upper years filled with regret. I was committed to not wasting my “one wild and precious life.”

The thing is…at 20-something my definitions of wildness and preciousness were heavily achievement based. Would I visit the places on my list? Could I clock the experiences on my bucket list? Would I maintain my health? How should I rise to the fullest potentials of my gifts? What legacy would I leave in the world?

At 54, my view of “my one wild and precious life” has evolved. The precious moments slant more towards unexpected, small delights. Moments when my complicated mother offers a compliment instead of a comparison; a glimpse of a patient father in the produce section teaching his 3-year-old the difference between Brussel sprouts and broccoli; a joy-filled moment singing old hymns fully aware of flaws in the lyrics and the limits and dangers of religion.

Modern day wildness connotes adrenaline-filled experiences. Yet Mary Oliver wrote during long solo walks in the woods. Wildness doesn’t require frenzy. Consider the wild things in the world –a bee whizzing from flower to flower; a fox searching for food; a fern growing and unfurling; a cat grooming itself in a sunny spot. These wild moments are deliberate, repetitive, experiential. More like a quiet smile then a mountainous, adrenaline-fueled excursion.

In Mary Oliver’s Wild Geese poem, humans are wild. Wild beings. Soft and vulnerable.

“You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.”

We are wild beings living precious time-limited lives. Rather than viewing our “wild and precious lives” with urgency, feeling pressured to pack in all possible experiences, perhaps Mary Oliver’s alternate advice is apropos:

“Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”

- J. Tilstra