Hello there, friend,
I love what Rilke says about learning to love the questions. He writes, "Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer." This is how I feel about the world right now. I have lots of questions. Things are not black and white, they are a thousand shades of gray -- unbearable gray, hopeful gray, indecipherable, too close to call. I don't know what to make of any of it except to ask questions, sit quietly, and observe.
I remember being a child and my father telling me he didn't ask so many questions of life. He said he just accepted what was. That made me feel awful about myself, like there was something wrong with being so inquisitive. Maybe I shouldn't ask. Maybe I should just let it be.
But I do ask, and I'm trying to figure it out. Why does it look so easy for everyone else, and I'm sorting through the rubble of my own heart? How do I fit in with what's going on in the world? How do I make a difference, or know to turn away and protect myself? Sometimes it's more than my heart can bear. I don't always have the words.
xo,
L
