Questioning

So I gather fragments–experiences, conversations, ideas–all day long.  And I ask myself  “what does this mean?” (I have no idea how to punctuate that.)  Or the schoolteacher question “what am I learning?”

Everytime I ask the questions, I get  somewhat different answers.  As if I am turning the fragment in my hand and looking at it from many angles.  The good thing is that what I’m learning is my limits to this kind of analyzing.  Just before it drives me crazy…just before I put it in a “box”…just before I want to declare that now I get it… just before it wants to prove me wrong again.

At the Farmer’s Market yesterday.  So much to look at, taste, feel, smell, hear.  I go to experience as much as I can, then come home to regroup.  Change the setting, the subject, and yes, sometimes the spinning.  I get lost in a book.  Until I feel the need to change again.  Change, what an interesting word.  (Pardon me, another fragment to turn around)

Rilke says “The point is to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

And I notice in the mornings now that I’m ready to gather fragments again.  As if I let go and let sleep finish sorting what my conscious mind was not capable of doing.  Allowing me to live the questions again.

So what will I learn today?  What fragments will I gather?  Don’t know.  I’ll be in two groups of people I used to work with, until I felt an overwhelming need for distance.  Has time released the “old business,” taught me some limits, and thrust me back into the world, eager to begin again?

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One response to this post.

  1. Rilke always had a way with words.

    Reply

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