What Mary Oliver Can Teach Us About Cultivating a Life Worth Living
As you step into the waiting room of Ember Psychology Center, you’ll find Mary Oliver’s beloved poem “The Journey” proudly displayed on the wall. As a young teenager, Oliver sought refuge from her “very dark and broken” home life by retreating into the woods where she read Wordsworth, wrote poetry, built houses made of sticks, and connected with geese, hummingbirds, and foxes alike.
While Oliver did not speak too publicly about her experiences with childhood trauma, it is clear from her poetry that she is no stranger to suffering and darkness. At the same time, her poetry provides a comforting balm for all of those that read it (myself included). Perhaps this is because Oliver’s poetry reflects upon the many dialectics of human experience – solitude and companionship, love and loss, life and death, fear and exhilaration. Her reflections on life, nature, and the human condition are relatable and give the reader encouragement to cultivate a life worth living, even in the face of unavoidable pain.
It is my view that Oliver’s poetry can help to provide us with a roadmap for navigating the existential givens that define the human experience. The existential givens include: Isolation, Freedom, Death, and Meaning (Yalom, 1980). It is through direct confrontation or denial of these “inescapable parts” of being human that so often lead to anxiety, depression, relationship difficulties, and other existential concerns that bring people to seek therapy.
Oliver’s beautifully crafted roadmap encourages us to slow down, notice the world around us, and live with intention. Here are just some of the timeless lessons we can learn from the de facto existential philosopher and therapist, Mary Oliver.
1) Build Connection and Belonging through Embracing Vulnerability
Beneath the polished surface, defenses such as perfectionism act as a shield to protect us from the terror of rejection, criticism, humiliation, and total aloneness. Oliver’s poetry gently reminds us that it is through vulnerability and the sharing of our pain that we find connection to ourselves and others.
For instance, in “Wild Geese” she writes:
“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.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you about mine.”
These lines remind us that we do not have to endlessly strive to “be good” in an impossible or unrelenting way. Instead, we’re allowed to simply exist. Oliver encourages us to show up as real, messy, and even “wild and springy” (From “Green Green is my Sister’s House”). What’s more, her words highlight how sharing our pain (or “despair”) with others opens the door for reciprocity, allowing others to relate to our vulnerability, to build intimacy and connection. When we stop hiding behind the mask of perfectionism and live courageously, our relationships deepen and we build closeness we otherwise would miss out on.
In the last stanza of “Wild Geese”, Oliver writes:
“Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting—
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”
The closing lines of the poem remind us that even in moments of deep loneliness or isolation, we can take comfort in knowing we belong to something greater—the vast tapestry of existence. While isolation might convince us that we are entirely alone in our experience, Oliver’s words offer reassurance, highlighting the shared aspects of human suffering. We exist both as individuals and as part of a collective whole.
2) Take Ownership and Responsibility of your Life
For many, the responsibility of shaping our own lives can feel deeply unsettling. The fear of making the wrong choice or facing the potential consequences can lead to “analysis paralysis,” where decision-making is avoided altogether. Bronnie Ware, in The Top Five Regrets of the Dying, notes that the most common regret expressed by those nearing the end of life is, “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.” This sentiment underscores the profound importance of the choices we make (or don’t make).
In Oliver’s poem, “The Journey,” she writes:
“One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice. . .
. . . as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save.”
Oliver’s words remind us that true freedom lies in taking responsibility for our lives, even amidst external constraints and pressures to conform. While others may impose demands or expectations, it is through exercising our inherent freedom of choice that we reclaim our power and forge our own path. As Oliver illustrates, this journey is not without its difficulties; we may face a “road filled with fallen branches and stones,” and confront the risks of failure, regret, and the absence of absolute guarantees. Yet, as existential psychologist Rollo May wrote in Man’s Search for Himself, “Each step in this journey means that he lives less as a servant of automatic time and more as…one who lives by meaning which he chooses.”
3) Pay Conscious Attention to your Everyday
In a world designed to keep us distracted, it's all too easy to fall into “autopilot mode,” drifting through life without fully engaging with what’s happening around us or within us. Our actions become automatic, driven by habits, demands, or expectations rather than our conscious choices. This can leave many of us feeling disconnected or unfulfilled, as if we’re just going through the motions rather than living with purpose.
In his timeless commencement speech, This is Water, David Foster Wallace comedically illustrates the “dreary, annoying, seemingly meaningless routines” that so many of us engage in as recipes for misery. His antidote – being consciously aware of what you pay attention to and finding freedom in the “only choice we get” which is getting to “decide what to worship.” Similarly, Oliver writes in her book Upstream, “Attention is the beginning of devotion.” Both Wallace and Oliver do not necessarily mean worship or devotion in the religious sense, but rather speak to the universal choice one has in dedicating their attention to something that we truly value as a way to cultivate freedom and meaning. As Wallace suggests, if we are unconscious to where we “worship,” then we are at risk of losing our lives to meaningless pursuits such as power, money, or unachievable beauty standards.
In Oliver’s poem “Sometimes” she notes:
“Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell me about it.”
Oliver instructs us to practice conscious awareness to the present moment (or mindfulness) and, in doing so, we may find that life is full of wonder and awe. Many of Oliver’s poems teach us that life’s beauty often resides in the simplest things, particularly the natural world. For instance, in her poem “When I am Among the Trees” she writes:
“When I am among the trees,
Especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.”
Oliver’s poetry is full of moments like these, where she invites us to pause, breathe, and “Stay awhile” in “the ordinary, the common. . . the daily presentations” (From Oliver’s poem Mindful). Her writing reminds us that we hold the power to decide how we construct meaning, even in the most ordinary of moments. We do not have to look far for these teachings — sometimes, they’re as close as a bird’s song or a quiet moment in the woods.
4) Everything is Uncertain, but Death
At any given time, we cannot predict what is going to happen next. The unpredictability of our circumstances—from relationships to careers, to health and beyond—can create a constant sense of discomfort. At worst, this confrontation with our limited control over life’s events and the future leads to heightened anxiety that many people seek therapy for support with.
In Oliver’s poem, “I Worried,” she writes:
“I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
Flow in the right direction. . .
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
Can I do better. . .
Finally I saw that worry had come to nothing.
And I gave it up. And took my old body
And went out into the morning,
and sang.”
Through the simplicity and honesty of her words, Oliver teaches us that anxiety is often fueled by life’s uncertainty, where we imagine countless possible outcomes and become consumed by what might happen. Like many of us, she reflects on the many things she worried about, only to realize that most of them never materialized. Oliver illustrates how anxiety often arises from fears that are far beyond our control. While her poem encourages us to embrace life’s uncertainties and move forward with joy, much of her writing also confronts the one certainty we all face— death.
For instance, in her poem “When Death Comes” she writes:
“When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut. . .
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?. . .
. . .When it's 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.”
Oliver’s writing suggests that by accepting both the finiteness of life and the inevitability of death, we can begin to focus on living in a way that truly matters to us. Her words encourage us to live with intention and appreciate the fleeting beauty of life. Furthermore, by introducing "eternity as another possibility," Oliver invites us to consider a broader view of existence, one that isn’t confined by the limitations of time as we typically understand it. This perspective challenges our tendency to structure our lives around the relentless ticking of the clock and the anxieties that often arise from this focus. Oliver helps us see death not as something to fear, but as an inherent part of a larger, eternal rhythm that transcends time. As Alan Watts said, “Life exists only at this very moment, and in this moment it is infinite and eternal.”
Final Thoughts
Mary Oliver’s poetry provides us with a carefully woven guide into how we can cultivate a meaningful life with purpose and grace. She urges us to embrace vulnerability, connect meaningfully with others, and pay attention in everyday moments, because there is beauty and joy to be found. Instead of succumbing to the anxiety and uncertainty of life, Oliver invites us to face the inevitability of death head-on as a way to live a life with few regrets. Her words inspire us to live authentically, savor the preciousness of each moment, and ultimately asks us to reflect: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
