Mary Oliver: Bone
Bone
1.
Understand, I am always trying to figure out
what the soul is,
and where hidden,
and what shape
and so, last week,
when I found on the beach
the ear bone
of a pilot whale that may have died
hundreds of years ago, I thought
maybe I was close
to discovering something
for the ear bone
2.
is the portion that lasts longest
in any of us, man or whale; shaped
like a squat spoon
with a pink scoop where
once, in the lively swimmer’s head,
it joined its two sisters
in the house of hearing,
it was only
two inches long
and thought: the soul
might be like this
so hard, so necessary
3.
yet almost nothing.
Beside me
the gray sea
was opening and shutting its wave-doors,
unfolding over and over
its time-ridiculing roar;
I looked but I couldn’t see anything
through its dark-knit glare;
yet don’t we all know, the golden sand
is there at the bottom,
though our eyes have never seen it,
nor can our hands ever catch it
4.
lest we would sift it down
into fractions, and facts
certainties
and what the soul is, also
I believe I will never quite know.
Though I play at the edges of knowing,
truly I know
our part is not knowing,
but looking, and touching, and loving,
which is the way I walked on,
softly,
through the pale-pink morning light.
Discussion Questions
To connect this poem to our own experience, when was a time in your life when you really thought about these questions of the soul?
What words in the description of the ear bone and/or the bottom of the sea stood out to you?
How can we bring Mary Oliver’s appreciation of not-knowing into medicine?
Reflections from #MedHumChat
“I have done bystander CPR three times in my life- in one instance, he died while I was doing compressions- no others, no equipment. I could feel the soul leave the body - it was very strange. First responders showed up as I was doing CPR but I knew the soul had fled.”—@liebschutz
“my first thought was "how'd she know it was the ear bone?" Then I thought of what that part of the whale meant to its communication with its community, the whale song and vibration, the connection and that we make learning of our communications with one another”—@DrKittyKat
“maybe what is meant is that the soul (like bone) doesn't degrade as easily as flesh, endures, is what is left behind?”—@meggerber
“This is easier for me to say as a med student, but I think an important chunk of my role in medicine IS not knowing, and instead just loving. Sometimes it’s all we can do; sometimes it’s all that’s needed. It hurts when we pressure ourselves to be perfect though”—@MGraceOliver
“There’s much we don’t truly “know” in medicine; we have models, some work, some don’t work. We keep striving. Keeping us humble & encouraging us to continue to explore & learn - without the hubris of thinking we will ever truly “know” everything”—@Emil_LeeMD
About this #MedHumChat
“Bone” was paired with “The Rabbit,” another poem by Mary Oliver for a #MedHumChat discussion on February 6, 2019 exploring Nature, Death, & the Soul in the Poetry of Mary Oliver.
The pieces for this chat, along with the discussion questions, were selected by Colleen Farrell.
About the Author
Mary Oliver (1935-2019) was an American poet, winner of a National Book Award and a Pulitzer Prize. Her poetry is known for its imagery and celebration of the natural world, a major theme being the intersection of the human and natural worlds. You can learn more about her here.