Entah mengapa saya gemar menghayati puisi The Journey oleh Mary Oliver sejak beberapa tahun yang lalu.
Puisi yang saya temui di dalam majalah Oprah yang sudah dibuang ke dalam tong sampah di pejabat sekitar penghujung tahun 2001 sentiasa memberi semangat baru kepada saya untuk meneroka jalan yang sunyi, memekakkan telinga daripada suara-suara pembunuh semangat dan mula mendengar dan mempercayai suara hati sendiri.
Puisi itu telah memberi inspirasi hebat kepada jiwa saya untuk membuat keputusan meninggalkan pekerjaan tetap di sebuah NGO tempatan dan menaiki keretapi ke Laos untuk berkhidmat sebagai sukarelawan selama setahun 5 bulan di Vientiane.
Malam ini saya kembali menikmati puisi itu untuk mendapatkan suntikan inspirasi jiwa untuk meneruskan suatu misi yang sudah lama tertangguh.
10 tahun menimba ilmu di dalam dunia NGO (yang kadang-kadang menyesakkan jiwa dengan politik orang-orang NGO) saya kira sudah cukup untuk saya mengorak langkah, menaikkan sauh dan mengemudikan perahu sendiri menuju laut lepas. (Saya juga obses dengan puisi Sea Fever oleh John Masefield!).
Nikmatilah The Journey. Semoga ia juga dapat memberi inspirasi kepada jiwa yang mahu bebas!
The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
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.
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
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.
~ Mary Oliver ~
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