Miracle. All of it.

Or consider the process of conception, when a single egg unites with a single sperm. Each human female has about 300,000 eggs during the fertile period of her life. Each male ejaculation has about 300 million sperm. Thus each conception contains about a hundred thousand billion different possible combinations of DNA. In other words, there are a hundred thousand billion unique and different human beings that could result from each procreation event. Only one of those possible combinations led to each of you reading this article at this moment. Here’s a way to visualize that extremely tiny fraction. If you took a very long ruler that stretched from here to the planet Pluto, one inch of that distance would be you. The rest of the distance would be other possible human beings that could have been, but never were. Each of us has won a lottery with a hundred thousand billion different players.

Being alive at all is the most extraordinary stroke of good luck we will ever experience. Yet it is the easiest to overlook, to take for granted. We wake up in the morning, have our coffee, make breakfast, send the kids off to school, go to our jobs, move through our routines, worry about deadlines, check off items on our to-do list. And we forget that beneath all of it lies something profoundly rare: existence itself. The simple fact that we are here, conscious and aware, is so unlikely that it borders on the miraculous. Because we experience that miracle every day, we treat it as ordinary, even guaranteed, mostly unnoticed at all. We postpone joy, assuming there will always be more time. We don’t see the beauty in small moments.

We simply go about the business of life, without taking a second to notice life itself. In making this comment, I am aware that in the time-driven, frantic pace of our world today, many people do not have the luxury of pausing to take stock of such moments.There is a little more to the story. There will never be another you in the future of the universe. (Some apologies are due to Buddhists and Hindus, who believe in rebirth, but even the reborn individual is not the same.) From the distant past, billions of years ago, to the distant future, billions of years ahead, the universe will never see another one of you.

It is almost impossible to wrap our heads around such things. We could not have had this grand perspective as recently as a century ago. And we have found it not through Prince Henry’s ships but through our laboratories, our telescopes, and our minds. So the question is: What are we to make of the fantastically improbable fact of our existence, our moment of life? Or, as Mary Oliver asks in the last lines of her poem “The Summer Day”: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Alan Lightman, from “The Ordinary Miracle of Existing” (The Atlantic.com, June 2, 2026)


Notes:

  • Photo: Sunrise over Lake Superior from break wall at Presque Isle Park, Marquette, Michigan. 6:52 am. June 12, 2026. More Marquette photos here and here.
  • Post Title Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.

Tuesday Morning Wake-Up Call

Last month, the Mary Oliver estate launched a merch store — now, for just $35, you can wear a cropped tee that reminds you to give in to joy. […]

Oliver’s work offered sanctuary from the marketplace, not entry into it. She didn’t tweet or posture. She walked and watched. She noticed things and made noticing feel sacred. She wrote about geese and rivers and blackberries — not as metaphors to be performed, but as wonders to be witnessed. Her poems were quiet refusals. She left the party early, wandered into the woods, knelt in the grass.

Now her words are a sort of spiritual branding perfect for selfies.⁠⁠ […]

I want to believe not everything has to be for sale. A poem can be a product, yes. But it can also be a prayer, a resistance, a small doorway back to something unsellable, something quiet and alive. Maybe the question isn’t what we buy or wear, but what we still believe. We don’t need to carry Oliver’s words into the world. We just need to sit still long enough that they carry us.⁠⁠

Her most famous question — What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? — isn’t asking what you’ll post, or wear, or monetize. It’s asking what you’ll notice. What you’ll love without needing to be seen loving it.

We don’t need to wear the poem; we need to live it.

Ellen O’Connell Whittet, excerpts from “Mary Oliver Now Has a Merch Store, and She’d Hate It” (The Cut, May 2025)

Don’t miss the rest of the essay here.


Photo of Mary Oliver in NY Times (January 17, 2019): Mary Oliver, 83, Prize-Winning Poet of the Natural World, Is Dead

Sunday Morning

Softest of mornings, hello.
And what will you do today, I wonder,
to my heart?

Mary Oliver, from “Softest of Mornings” in “A Thousand Mornings: Poems” (Penguin Books, 2012)


Notes:

  • Photo from this morning’s walk at Cove Island Park. Other photos from this morning here.
  • Full poem from Jules of Nature here.

Lightly Child, Lightly.

Tippett: And then you talk about growing up in a sad, depressed place, a difficult place. You don’t belabor this, I mean, and in other places — there’s a place you talk about you were one of many thousands who’ve had insufficient childhoods, but that you spent a lot of your time walking around the woods in Ohio.

Oliver: Yes, I did, and I think it saved my life. To this day, I don’t care for the enclosure of buildings. It was a very bad childhood — for everybody, every member of the household, not just myself, I think — and I escaped it, barely, with years of trouble. But I did find the entire world, in looking for something. But I got saved by poetry, and I got saved by the beauty of the world.

— Mary Oliver, from “I Got Saved by the Beauty of the World” in “On Being Interview with Krista Tippett” (Feb 15 2015)


Notes:

  1. Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.
  2. Poem Source. Thank you Make Believe Boutique.

Hello, sun in my face

Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who make the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories,
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and crotchety–

best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light–
good morning, good morning, good morning.

Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.

— Mary Oliver, Why I Wake Early


Sunrise photos from this morning. 6:20 to 6:40 am. August 24, 2024. Cove Island Park. More pictures from this morning: Twilight here. Sunrise here.