“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions . . . the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” – Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
I made some promises to myself when I started this blog, about writing regularly and posting content consistently.
Tonight is the first time that’s really been a problem. I have post ideas, half-written drafts, but none of them are right for tonight. But that’s just the problem–I don’t know what, exactly, is right for tonight.
It’s a liminal time of year, the season feeling weird with September burning hot the whole month long as pumpkins, mums, and cords of firewood pile up outside my neighborhood Kroger. It’s been a long-short month; the weeks pass quickly but the stretches of hot, cloudless days make it seem as if fall were still a long way off.
And then today, it was overcast and rainy and even chilly and I was freezing on campus in my shorts and sandals and gauzy summer top. Things are changing after all.
Like this interminable summer, I feel like I’ve been caught in the same season for too long. I can’t stay here any longer.
Most good fairy tales start with a departure, right? (I mean if Vladimir Propp says it’s so . . . ) I’ve delayed my journey too long. Or maybe it’s the exact right time. Either way, I’ve left now and I feel light and frightened and exhilarated.
As usual, T.S. Eliot says it best.
“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”