I woke up this morning with these words on my mind and I can't seem to shake them. This poem has settled in like this storm. Like the endless rain outside that is washing away everything to reveal only the truth. And while I keep reading it over and over again to try and spark that thing I am meant to write about, I just don't know.
So I am just going to share and let you have your way with it. Tomorrow, I will blog about my thoughts on solitude. Today, I will just sit with it.
“Therefore, dear Sir, love your solitude and try to sing out with the pain it causes you. For those who are near you are far away... and this shows that the space around you is beginning to grow vast.... be happy about your growth, in which of course you can't take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don't torment them with your doubts and don't frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn't be able to comprehend. Seek out some simple and true feeling of what you have in common with them, which doesn't necessarily have to alter when you yourself change again and again; when you see them, love life in a form that is not your own and be indulgent toward those who are growing old, who are afraid of the aloneness that you trust.... and don't expect any understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.”