Synopses & Reviews
Reflecting on the past and a hard-won sense of self, Mary OReilley is determined not to sacrifice or waste herself. At midlife, she writes, she is finally learning to withhold after years of struggle on paths set by her suburban childhood, her Catholic upbringing, and a failed marriage. With a new perspective, O'Reilley discovers the pleasure in overlapping worlds and the intersections where rules break down, and she cultivates this border ecology. An animal rehabilitator, she feels the nearness yet difference of the universe the animals know. An apprentice potter, she sees in a Japanese teabowl the ultimate balance of action and contemplation. A woman who lives alone but has a life partner, she knows the joys of both solitude and companionship. And as a Quaker, she can both sit still and sing. This thoughtful book brings readers into a demo” life that conveys new ways of seeing and a fresh vocabulary for exploring issues of the spirit.
Synopsis
At midlife, Mary Rose O'Reilley reflects on her past and her hard-won sense of self. She is determined, now, not to sacrifice or waste her self. She has struggled for years along the paths set by her suburban childhood, her Catholic upbringing, her failed marriage, and the mute duties of daughterhood. Now, she is trying to see the world through the eyes of the deer that stop outside her window and look in at her. As a wildlife rehabilitator, she feels a closer connection to the natural world as experienced by animals. As an apprentice potter, she sees in a Japanese tea bowl the ultimate balance of action and contemplation. As a Quaker, she can both sit still and sing. And as a writer, O'Reilley can speak clearly to readers at midlife who are expected to know it all, but don't.
Synopsis
At midlife, Mary Rose O'Reilley writes, we are called to an "archaeology of memory"--turning over a potsherd here, a fragment there--to assemble something whole out of the messiness of experience. Excavating her own life, she traces the middle-class Irish American background that shaped her, with its mix of antic humor, terror, and mysticism, and finds meaning in the seemingly smallest, most transient encounters.
But O'Reilley's purpose is less to recount these moments than it is to find the language for a different kind of story, in which the narrative of daily life opens to admit the holy and its corollary, the comic. Encouraging all of us to contemplate our own deep story, she calls hers a demo-life, in which the facts of personal history ground a narrative of consciousness and perception.
Earthy and luminous, unconventional and profoundly illuminating, The Love of Impermanent Things offers a threshold ecology for readers of all ages.