tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732202925039933709.post7714547888072972824..comments2023-07-21T05:31:02.451+02:00Comments on A Year with Rilke: Unafraid of What Is DifficultRuthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14204074161539605133noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732202925039933709.post-19037759483985513942011-08-03T13:48:09.168+02:002011-08-03T13:48:09.168+02:00it is what we have, this lens of self, through whi...it is what we have, this lens of self, through which to see and learn the world. and it seems to me we're born only partially constructed, as though we are without our full cage of ribs, and so we go seeking out that which might fulfill us. if we think it is easy then we are wrong. we have fashioned our sights to the wrong thing. it is not one thing. it is not one love although how often we make this mistake. it is in fact all things. it is in fact all love. that solitary rib leaves an awfully large hole to fill.<br /><br />i laugh. i love rilke as though he sits in my class three seats up. i stare at his neck, wonder who he is and why he stays distant. and then i too stay distant enough.<br /><br />xo<br />erinerinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16636371927224076866noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732202925039933709.post-40854740165199008092011-08-03T04:26:27.411+02:002011-08-03T04:26:27.411+02:00that last sentence is so true. yet so hard to appl...that last sentence is so true. yet so hard to apply. and in fact, perhaps the cause of solitude.lil coyotenoreply@blogger.com