I am really enjoying the writings of the late Rainer Maria Rilke lately. Here's another one that speaks to me.
Am I Not the Whole?
God, are you then the All? And I the separated one
who tumbles and rages?
Am I not the whole? Am I not all things
when I weep, and you the single one, who hears it?
from The Book of Hours II, 3
I think about the immensity of the hurt inherent in the human condition. Often, O live in that place, the place of hurt, of loss, of weeping, tumbling and rage. When I'm there, yes, it feels all consuming. It feels like it is ALL that there is. And it feels apart. Apart from the God-thing that might hear, offer comfort, show me rest.
Apart-ness from God is, theologians might say, sin. And that's an entirely different bucket of worms than I think Rilke was getting at here. I'm not talking about sin either. I'm talking about the depth of feeling that comes with living fully.
Whole in an interesting concept for me. In my own broken way, yes, I am whole. I am a group of broken hurting people, all living in one broken hurting body. It's how I survive. And, it's how I will heal. If the singleness of God hears me, and offers help, then good. I'll take it.
Twelve Years Apart
3 hours ago