Waking up today

I realised how fast the year is slipping away. Trying to recount the things I have done, the changes I have made or the things I have nurtured and grown.  A lot has been going on - the list is positive and endless. It reminded me of this letter from Rainer Maria Rilke to a young poet, Kappus written in 5th April 1903:

"You must forgive, my dear sir, that not until today could I gratefully turn my thoughts to your letter of February 24th. Until now I was not well, not exactly ill, but depressed by an influenza-type of fatigue.  I was incapable of doing anything.  Finally, when my situation did not seem to improve, I came to this southern seashore where I had been coaxed into well being once before.  But I am not well yet.  Writing is difficult for me; therefore you must take these few lines to be more than they are.


Of course, you must know that you shall always bring me joy with each of your letters.  But please have forbearance with the answers, which may well often leave you empty-handed.  We are unutterably alone, essentially in the things most intimate and most important to us.  In order for a persn to advise, even to help another, a great deal must happen. Many different elements must coincide harmoniously; a whole constellation of things must come about for that to happen even once."

This couple of utterances gives comfort to me, knowing that troubles can be overtaken by joy, from the simplest of things, and that there is always someone who can offer advice, even if t comes once in whole lifetime. It will be the greatest of advice.

Until then, take care x