Your One Wild and Precious Life

Answering Mary Oliver's Ultimate Question

Mary Oliver's question haunts us in the most beautiful way: "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

This isn't small talk. This is the poet stopping you mid-stride and demanding you account for your days. She's asking about the bigness hiding inside your ordinary Tuesday morning, the dreams you've been whispering to yourself when nobody's listening, the person you're becoming while everyone else is busy getting and spending.

The word "wild" matters here. Oliver isn't asking about your five-year plan or your retirement portfolio. She's asking about the untamed part of you that wants to create something beautiful, serve something bigger, become someone better. The part that wants to dance in your kitchen and learn new languages and tell someone you love them and plant trees you'll never sit under.

Your life is precious because there's only one of you. In all of human history, nobody has ever had your exact combination of experiences, talents, dreams, and quirks. Nobody sees the world quite like you do. Nobody can contribute what you can contribute. This isn't motivational speaking – this is mathematics. You are literally irreplaceable.

But precious things require intention. A precious painting doesn't frame itself. A precious garden doesn't plant itself. Your precious life won't live itself.

So what does it mean to plan for wildness? It means making space for four essential dreams that create a complete life:

The dream of becoming better. This is your growth edge, the place where you're stretching into someone new. Maybe you're learning to be braver, kinder, wiser. Maybe you're developing skills that fascinate you or healing wounds that have shaped you. This dream says your story isn't finished – you're still becoming.

The dream of making the world better. This is your service edge, the way you use your unique gifts to leave things better than you found them. Maybe through your work, your parenting, your volunteering, your art. Even small kindnesses count. This dream connects you to something larger than your own life.

The dream of legacy. This is what remains when you're gone – the people you've influenced, the work you've created, the values you've lived, the problems you've solved. This dream gives weight to your choices, helping you think beyond immediate gratification to lasting impact.

The dream of pure joy. This is your fun edge, the part that remembers life is meant to be celebrated, not just endured. Adventures that thrill you, relationships that delight you, simple pleasures that make you smile. This dream keeps you energized for everything else.

These four dreams work together like compass points, giving your life direction while keeping it balanced. You don't have to choose between growth and joy, between service and legacy. Your wild and precious life has room for all of it.

The planning isn't about controlling every outcome. It's about becoming intentional with your days, conscious of your choices, deliberate about what matters. It's about refusing to sleepwalk through the only life you get.

Oliver spent her life paying attention – to birds, to seasons, to the small miracles hiding in plain sight. She understood that planning your wild and precious life starts with noticing what's already wild and precious about this moment, then building from there.

Your life is happening now. Not when you finish school, find the right partner, get the promotion, or figure everything out. The wildness is available today. The preciousness is in your hands right now.

So answer her question. What are you planning to do? Not someday. Today. With this one life you've been given, this irreplaceable gift of consciousness and choice and possibility.

The poet is waiting for your answer.

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Email me here.