One of my favorite poets is Mary Oliver. Her ability to hit my heartstrings with an economy of words is powerful.

In our crowded workspaces and ever-lengthening to-do lists, it is easy for work to feel like a series of checkboxes. But in a rare and poignant conversation with Maria Shriver, poet Mary Oliver offered a different definition of work that we should all hold close: "My work is loving the world."

"Loving the world" means seeing the "sunflowers" and "hummingbirds" in every person around us, especially our students. Oliver reminds us that our primary task isn't delivering essays, budgets, or curriculum, but "mostly standing still and learning to be astonished." When we model this astonishment, we give our students permission to be curious and to find their own "place in the family of things." During the interview, Shriver noted that her all-time favorite poem was "The Journey." Oliver writes of that pivotal moment when: "One day you finally knew / what you had to do, and began."

I have both enjoyed and endured many interesting chapters of my life. I feel less and less the desire to impress others, and more and more the desire to just begin the beautiful work of mission—many missions leaving a loving imprint on children in particular.

School Finance is its own wild night, full of "fallen branches and stones." Yet, Oliver’s interview reveals that the most important life we can save is our own—not through selfishness, but through the "quiet courage" of finding our own voice. When we as teachers and colleagues honor our own intuition and authenticity, we become the "new voice" that keeps each other company. Sometimes, we must embrace the messy.

Perhaps the most liberating lesson Oliver shared with Shriver is the grace of imperfection. "You do not have to be good," she wrote in "Wild Geese." In a profession that often demands perfection, these words are a sanctuary. We don't have to "walk on our knees for a hundred miles" repenting for a lesson that didn't land or a day that felt chaotic.

Instead, Oliver challenges us with the question Shriver often quotes: "What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" In the interview, Oliver’s own answer was humble and profound: "I used up a lot of pencils... I learned to consider my life an amazing gift."

As we walk through the hallways to classrooms and offices, let us look for the things that will "instruct us in joy and acclamation" and help us grow wise. Let us "open your hands" and "open your life" to the hope and risk of this mission.

In the end, our work is simple: to "pay attention," to "be astonished," and—like Mary Oliver—to tell our students and community about it. With sincere appreciation for each of you and pride at being able to walk alongside you in this important work.