Worry like a wild thing

A poem/quote by D. H. Lawrence reads like this:


Self Pity

“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself”.


The beauty of this little segment of prose is that it asks us to explore its meaning personally (like good writing should). Undoubtedly some will see in it the cold, harsh, fatalistic and unfeeling dimensions of ‘mother nature’. In the late nineties a military character in the movie G. I. Jane used it to illuminate the kind of mental toughness he expected from his recruits. Others might journey a little deeper and identify the thought life/introspective capability of humanity as perhaps being as much of a curse as a blessing. However I am drawn in a different direction by these words.

I hear an ancient but ageless voice speaking.

“Do not be anxious about your life …. look at the birds of the air” He says.

“Your heavenly Father feeds them …. are you not of more value than they?” He asks.

Worry is like a rocking chair – it will occupy you if you let it – but you won’t go anywhere while you’re there.

“Which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to the span of life? “ He asks.

So if you feel you have to worry – worry like a wild thing and trust the One who made you (and all other things too).



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