INVITATION

Invitation

Oh do you have time
to linger
for just a little while
out of your busy

and very important day
for the goldfinches
that have gathered
in a field of thistles

for a musical battle,
to see who can sing
the highest note,
or the lowest,

or the most expressive of mirth,
or the most tender?
Their strong, blunt beaks
drink the air

as they strive
melodiously
not for your sake
and not for mine

and not for the sake of winning
but for sheer delight and gratitude –
believe us, they say,
it is a serious thing

just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in the broken world.
I beg of you,

do not walk by
without pausing
to attend to this
rather ridiculous performance.

It could mean something.
It could mean everything.
It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:
You must change your life.

Mary Oliver

This tender but serious invitation could change our lives. It has changed my life. This was one precise reason why we decided to settle in Yangpyeong, closer to nature’s spectacle and wonder, not that nature showcases for my sake. Nature simply does what nature is, and the only way we can participate is to linger and pay attention. The reality is that it is happening around us all the time and everywhere, out of “sheer delight and gratitude,” not to lose sight of the fact that we live in a broken world.

Over the weekend, we drove into the city to enjoy the mild late autumn weather and spend time outdoors. After meandering ten thousand steps in the historic part of the city, we found a tiny, independent bookstore tucked away from the main street. As my wife’s twinkling eyes met mine, full of curiosity, we decided to step inside. The bookstore was converted from a more than a hundred-year-old Hanok (Korean traditional house), which was approximately 50 square meters in size. As we were leaving, the owner approached us and asked, “Are you here for the exhibit?” “No,” we replied. The truth was that we did not see the exhibit sign outside. He then sheepishly wondered whether we would be interested in meeting the artist. Curious, we both said, “Yes.” The artist, Park, recently spent two years on a remote island called Udo, desperately trying to find her own artistic flow. She had us enter the makeshift dark room and listen to an audio recording that mimicked the Udo storm that changed her life. After ten minutes, she joined us in the tiny dark room and explained the painting right in front of us. I knew my wife was deeply moved, as was I, as her sharing reflected some of our most profound spiritual discoveries as well.

She “lingered” and accepted the gift of nature and discovered herself in the making. She recalled a storm that stopped all the ferries and boats for days, and how she found herself in isolation. She began to see how she was, trying to fit in and paint what others wanted from her rather than painting what flowed out of her. She learned the hard lesson of letting go during two years of isolation, which required a great deal of courage. She was humble enough to share with us that she is still on the journey. She thanked us for our attentive listening. She asked at one point, smiling, “How are you listening to me so deeply?” We thanked her and congratulated her for her courage and dedication. One of her signature paintings from the isolation period is featured above, titled Freedom of Isolation.

Her life has changed ever since she accepted the invitation, an invitation to linger in isolation, among birds, ocean, wind, and even storms. Interweaving Oliver’s poem and the artist Park, I wonder if “sheer delight and gratitude” in us has something to do with the invitation to change our lives. Lastly, I salute Oliver, quoting Rilke as if to accentuate that perennial spiritual tradition continues from one generation to the next…