Echos of Passion

 

Rilke’s Advice

“Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.”

Rainer Maria Rilke (Letters to a Young Poet)

          I remember Mary Virginia Brown, writer, editor, and my most honest critic, telling me long ago, “Don’t write anything unless you have to, and never try to tell anyone else’s story.” I especially think of this when I sit down every morning to write and have no thought whatsoever inside my head much less words to put on screen. Rilke was a prodigious writer. He was tortured by the two greatest forces in the universe—Eros and Thanatos—love and death. They seemed to sit on either side of him, forcing him to write painfully brilliant words.

          Let me just say that while I love to read Rilke’s words and I find almost all of what he wrote exceptionally wise, I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want my passion for anything to become obsession. I don’t want it to rule my life to the exclusion of all else the way it did his. Which means that I will probably never write anything half as enduring and intense as his least impressive sentence. And that’s okay with me.

          I wonder about you…what grips your heart and shakes its roots? Do you wake up before daylight so you can get through all the dull necessities of the day and still have time and energy to do that one single thing? Passion is good, it warms your heart and keeps the blood coursing through your veins. But obsession is not the same as passion—instead of joy and excitement, it too often brings sadness and destruction.

          There is a stretch of life when we think the worst possible outcome is to be thought mediocre. We want to be a flaming firebrand all our days. That kind of fiery energy is necessary to build a strong ego—the essential task of the first half of life. The idea of our life being lived in quiet contemplation seems nothing short of deadly. But when the second half rolls around, assuming we’re lucky enough to get a second half, we find ourselves staring at clouds, daydreaming, wondering what lies beyond. The task of this part of life is to do exactly what Rilke advised the young poet: “Go into yourself—find out the reason that commands you…” It’s hard to do that if you’re busy burning down the world.

          It’s all good because life itself is good. Go where the energy takes you. As Rilke said, “Let life happen to you. Believe me, life is in the right, always.” Regardless of what it brings, it’s all part of your soul’s journey. Welcome to the road.

                                                            In the Spirit,

                                                            Jane