September 16, 2011

Afternoon, Before Beethoven's Missa Solemnis

The Opera Garnier dome, painted by Marc Chagall

Let yourself not be misled by the notes
that fall to you from the generous wind.

Wait watchfully. Hands that are eternal
may come to play upon your strings.

Early Journals


  1. I'm not quite sure what Rilke means by this, but, viscerally, I'm skeptical of ignoring the notes that fall from a generous wind. May we not enjoy those notes while we wait watchfully for those eternal hands to play upon our strings?

  2. my own experiencing of this is in the moment when something entirely unexpected walks in the door - metaphorically - the magic fairy for example and plays me. it's an exceptional experience that has sometimes showed up in my teaching, my writing, my photography, my speaking, my painting and even my cooking! steven

  3. makes me wonder of our moments of discord though, our dissonance? who plays us then? or is that born of our not allowing, but instead of behaving very badly, as stubborn children?



"Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night."

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Go ahead, bloom recklessly!