The Uses of Sorrow
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)
Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness
It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.
Mary Oliver
Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets. Her poem, “The Uses of Sorrow,” makes me think about Redwood trees—trees that forever changed my awareness of not only nature but all life.
In Oregon, I lived near Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park. My dog, Mickey, and I often hiked and ran through those magnificent trees. Their spellbinding beauty moved my soul. The peaceful groves were like a home for me.
Among the Redwoods, I saw the sorrows in their box of darkness. The visual story was written in their majestic beings from bottom to top. Catastrophic fires. Lightning strikes. Parasite destruction. Toxic poison from illegal crop cultivation. Extreme climate for years or eons. Water deprivation. Chainsaw poaching.
The Redwoods’ resilience is greater.
Joy Ryan, an adventurous grandmother from Ohio, had the same observation. Between 2015 and 2023, Ryan, now 95, visited all 63 United States national parks with her grandson, Brad. One of her stand-out memories from these travels was Jedidiah Smith.
“Those trees have been struck by lightning,” she said. “And you think that takes courage after you’ve been struck by lightning to say I’m going to keep growing.”
My observations were the same. Running through, around and among these trees, I saw their potentially game-changing scars and wounds. Yet, they thrive. They aren’t defined by the box of darkness. In fact, the twists and turns make them more extraordinary.
They stand, rooted in the earth and touching the sky. In silence, they reach deeper, higher, onward. And they give. They grace the earth with their beauty. They inspire hope for the past, present and future. They nourish people, animals, birds, insects and other botanical life. They gift the earth with gentle strength. The Redwoods are nature’s love in action.
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”
Khalil Gibran
