…like closed rooms and books written in a very strange tongue…  (Rilke in Letters to a Young Poet)

 

I never had a true mentor when I was finding out who I really am.  Everyone that I wanted to sit under, learn from, absorb their wisdom, were very much at arm’s length.  To be fair, I was and am very hard to know.  Even in the writings that are here in these entries, I do not broadcast what I write to even the closest of friends.  Most people that I am closest to I do not trust well enough to share these feelings to them, because it’s a part of my self that I rarely have a chance to open to the sunlight. 

Being very temporary in the past, I learned that most people truly do not like to do those things that I enjoy.  So, I have learned to adapt, to do what they do.  I get my joy and community and fellowship from whatever they do.  For the most part, that seems to be the best way.  I almost to a fault, end up doing what they would like to do… never what I would choose, and except for the rarest of circumstances, no one reciprocates.

One could infer that I was a little disappointed in that.  That might be true, but the point is, that I have never quite learned how to cultivate those things that truly fill me up.  True I indulge in inspiring events.  But, the world I live in, I don’t share that often.  At least not anymore.  So, at times my focus is very much on me, other times it never includes me.  There doesn’t seem to be any balance there.

When I was younger, I wish that someone had helped me cultivate patience with those things in my life that were not finished or not near completion.  Those that knew me well enough to help me with those things were my age, never someone older or wiser.  I would have loved to hear the words from Rilke:

“Do not search now for the answers which cannot be given because you could not live them.”

Wow.  If that nugget of wisdom had seeped into my heart decades ago, I very well could have been a quite different individual.  The idea that some answers come only when you’re ready to live them out is something I have been struggling with for years.  It might not have made any difference, for I am truly hard-headed, but it would have been a chance for a different outcome in many stages of my early life.

There isn’t anything more important to having a divine perspective when dealing with our daily lives.  We are told that God answers prayer in one of three ways:  Yes, No, and Not at this time.  At this moment, after learning something that I should have known a long time ago, I am trying to cultivate the concept of cherishing the questions for which I do not have answers.  I feel like I’m 20 all over again, stuck in a 40-year-old reality.  I have to dig in to seek what I’ve been missing for so long.

So, in this, another stage of learning how to be permanent, I embark into something that is quite new to me.  A time of solitude.  I have been on the edge and periphery for a long time now.  I withdraw from those things and those people who have encouraged that temporary nature in myself.  I do so, not because I want to, but after events have shown me that I’m on the cusp of a change in my life…  I should be sure that my reactions and actions are because I am moving into a less temporary mindset.  That cannot happen if I am still doing what I have always done.  I am grateful for the signs and actions by others that unfortunately got my attention, despite the circumstances in which they were shown to me.

Here’s to loving “… your solitude and bear the pain which it has caused you with fair-sounding lament.”  (Rilke) 

Let’s see what transpires, let’s see what transforms.

Selah.

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