I can remember the first time I read those words. I was in my early twenties and I was composed entirely of the unresolved. Now, in my mid-thirties, I have glimpsed the hem of resolution. When a moment of clarity arises, I want to grasp it and hold it and in that attempt I crystallize around that passing glimpse of truth, hardening at the edges. This pertinent piece of advice from Rilke's, "Letters to a Young Poet", rings as true today as it did 15 years ago and I am reminded to breathe into the question and be patient.
Some days, you just have to forget about ‘healing’. You have to stop trying to feel better, trying to overcome your emotional wounds, or trying to be anywhere other than where you are. You have to embrace the day as it is. And you have to give yourself the most sacred permission of all: To shatter. To break. To be an ugly mess. To lean into a place of utter humility and powerlessness in yourself. To cry out to the heavens, “I can’t do this!” To admit utter defeat in the loss of the life you had imagined. To crumble to the ground, lonely and hopeless and profoundly ruined. To want to die, even. And there, in the darkest places, in the blackness of the underworld, you may begin to rediscover... life. And learn to love the beginnings. A sacred reboot: A single breath. The way the sun warms your face. The sound of a tiny bird singing in the tree over there. The raw simplicity of a single moment of human existence. Hell has been transmuted, thr...

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--Farida
Times are tough here in many ways...
Hoping they get better..
your bro