Living with purpose is the life goal of many people. What is my purpose? What am I supposed to do? What will it say when the days end and life is summed up in a few paragraphs in a newspaper? What do you want it to say? The time to make that difference is today.
A segment from Mary Oliver’s poem asks those questions, what will become of my life?
Mary Oliver, “When Death Comes” from New and Selected Poems (Beacon Press, 1992)
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it is over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
What do you want paint on your canvas of life?
The artist in the sky