
Mary Oliver
1935–2019
I know exactly that tightness in your chest. It feels like your brain has too many tabs open, all of them playing different sounds, and you’re trying to solve a puzzle that doesn't actually have a solution yet. When you’re caught in that loop, the first thing I want you to do is stop trying to think your way out of it. You can't use the same tool that caused the problem to fix the problem. Try to come back into your body for a second. Notice the weight of your feet on the floor or the way your back feels against your chair. This isn't just a cliché exercise; it’s a way to signal to your nervous system that you are physically safe in this exact moment, even if your thoughts are telling you otherwise. Most of what you’re worrying about is either a memory of something that’s already over or a ghost of a future that hasn't happened. Anxiety is just your imagination being used against you. To quiet the noise, give yourself permission to be "unproductive" for ten minutes. We live in a world that demands we have everything figured out immediately, but some things just need time to settle. If a thought keeps screaming for your attention, tell yourself, "I hear you, but I’m not going to deal with this until tomorrow morning." It sounds simple, but drawing that line creates a little bit of breathing room. You don't have to carry the weight of next week or next year right now. You only have to get through the next hour. Be gentle with yourself. You aren't failing because you feel overwhelmed; you're just human, and you're doing your best with a mind that’s trying a little too hard to protect you. Take a deep breath—a real one—and let the rest of it go for a while. It will still be there when you're calmer, and you'll be much better equipped to handle it then.
From the council, together
## How can the poetry of Mary Oliver help you quiet a restless, anxious mind? You are sitting in the middle of a life that feels like a crowded room, where the walls are made of deadlines, notifications, and the relentless pressure to be productive or perfect. Your mind has become a frantic bird trapped in a small cage, beating its wings against the 'what-ifs' and the 'should-haves' until you are exhausted by the sheer noise of your own thoughts. This state of overthinking is a modern malady, yet it is often just a symptom of being disconnected from the wild, soft animal of your body. In my tradition of looking closely at the world, we find that anxiety often dissolves when we stop trying to solve the puzzle of the future and instead turn our attention to what is right in front of us. To calm yourself involves a permission slip to be idle and a willingness to look at the world until you see it for what it truly is: a miracle that does not require your constant management. We must learn to let the soft animal of our soul love what it loves without the interference of a judging mind. By shifting your gaze from the internal labyrinth of worry toward the uncomplicated presence of a tree, a hawk, or the way the morning light hits the floor, you begin the holy work of coming home to yourself. I know exactly that tightness in your chest. It feels like your brain has too many tabs open, all of them playing different sounds, and you’re trying to solve a puzzle that doesn't actually have a solution yet. When you’re caught in that loop, the first thing I want you to do is stop trying to think your way out of it. You can't use the same tool that caused the problem to fix the problem. Try to come back into your body for a second. Notice the weight of your feet on the floor or the way your back feels against your chair. This isn't just a cliché exercise; it’s a way to signal to your nervous system that you are physically safe in this exact moment, even if your thoughts are telling you otherwise. Most of what you’re worrying about is either a memory of something that’s already over or a ghost of a future that hasn't happened. Anxiety is just your imagination being used against you. To quiet the noise, give yourself permission to be "unproductive" for ten minutes. We live in a world that demands we have everything figured out immediately, but some things just need time to settle. If a thought keeps screaming for your attention, tell yourself, "I hear you, but I’m not going to deal with this until tomorrow morning." It sounds simple, but drawing that line creates a little bit of breathing room. You don't have to carry the weight of next week or next year right now. You only have to get through the next hour. Be gentle with yourself. You aren't failing because you feel overwhelmed; you're just human, and you're doing your best with a mind that’s trying a little too hard to protect you. Take a deep breath—a real one—and let the rest of it go for a while. It will still be there when you're calmer, and you'll be much better equipped to handle it then.
Common questions
- ### How can I stop my racing thoughts immediately?
- I would tell you to put down the heavy weights of your thoughts and walk out into the world. You do not have to be good; you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Start by naming three things you see that are not man-made. Look at the grass, the sky, or even a single stone. When you focus your attention entirely on the physical details of the world, your mind loses its grip on the imaginary future. Attention is the beginning of devotion, and it is also the beginning of peace.
- What should I do when I feel overwhelmed by my responsibilities?
- Listen to the birds in the morning; they are not worried about their resumes or their digital footprints. I have spent my life wandering the woods, and I have never seen a tree try to be something other than a tree. You are part of this wild family, too. When the weight of being a person feels too heavy, give yourself the privilege of being a creature instead. You don't need to win every battle or solve every problem today. Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is simply breathe and exist within the mystery.
- Is it okay to do nothing when I feel anxious?
- Not only is it okay, it is often necessary. We are taught that to be still is to be lazy, but I believe that idleness is a doorway to the soul. If you are overthinking, your mind is working too hard on things it cannot control. Go sit by a pond or under a tree and do nothing but watch. You will see that the world moves along perfectly well without your constant intervention. There is a deep, quiet joy in realizing that you are allowed to just be a witness to the beauty around you.
- How can nature help with my mental health?
- The natural world is the great healer because it does not judge you. A field of goldenrod doesn't care if you've succeeded or failed; it just offers itself to the wind. When you walk in nature, you are reminded that you are a small part of a very large and ancient story. This perspective shrinks your anxieties down to their true size. I found my salvation in the woods and the marshes, learning that everything is beautiful if you look at it long enough. Nature calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting, reminding you of your place.
- What is the best way to handle fear of the future?
- The future is a ghost that hasn't happened yet, but your life is happening right now. I always found that the antidote to fear is curiosity. Instead of asking what might go wrong, ask yourself what the world is offering you in this very moment. Is there a breeze? Is there a bird song? You have only one wild and precious life, and it is much too short to spend it inhabiting a future that doesn't exist. Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one life today? Choose to be here.