Living The Questions
In Rainer Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet, he gives spiritual teachings and advice to a young writer from Germany, Franz Xaver Kappus, who was just nineteen at the time. Kappus was enrolled in the Military Academy of Wiener Neustadt, the academy Rilke had attended fifteen years prior. Kappus was attempting to write poetry at the time, and after reading some of Rilke’s work, he sent some of his writings to Rilke. Rilke, having been in the same position as the boy at one point in time, responded in verses of spiritual insight and wisdom that speak to anyone who reads them, especially those navigating difficult life transitions. The main theme that sticks out to me in Rilke’s letters is the invitation to love the questions of life and live them without needing a direct answer. These passages are useful for anyone, young or old, and are timeless in their messages.
In Chapter Four of Stephen Mitchell’s translation of these letters, Rilke’s direct response to the young poet is that the questions that burn in his soul can not be given a satisfactory answer by anyone else.
“I feel that there is no one anywhere who can answer for you those questions and feelings which, in their depths, have a life of their own; for even the most articulate people are unable to help, since what words point to is so very delicate, is almost unsayable.” (P. 32-33)
And how can anyone give you an answer to what resides in your depths? Articulate people, even in their fancy wording, can’t touch what is deep inside because these feelings, accompanied by images, have autonomy and live in the realm of no words. So, how do we understand our most profound feelings? According to Rilke, you become attentive and silent, and appreciative of every small thing around you in nature that most people miss or take for granted out of the busyness of our lives. Maybe this is the way to interact with the whispers of the soul?
“If you trust in nature, in what is simple in nature, in the small things that hardly anyone sees and that can so suddenly become huge, immeasurable; if you have this love for what is humble and try very simply, as someone who serves, to win the confidence of what seems poor: then everything will become easier for you, more coherent and somehow more reconciling, not in your conscious mind perhaps, which stays behind, astonished, but in your innermost awareness, awakeness, and knowledge.” (P. 34).
Rilke was intuitively tapping into the missing link of our existence. The connection back to nature and simplicity. When we connect with nature, not just the outer environment but our inner environment, consciousness awakens, and our trajectory alters. Our conscious mind may not be able to understand where we are and why we are where we are, but we gain more trust in nature and catch glimpses of knowing that we are on the right path. Instead of trying to control the circumstances of life, we open up to the mystery, and what we initially perceived as poor and unlovable in our lives becomes the treasure that enhances our lives and gives them meaning.
“You are so young, so much before all beginning, and I would like to beg you dear sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language.” (P. 34).
Life trains us to learn the foreign language in those mysterious books Rilke speaks of. If we were able to read and comprehend the story of our life and had all of the answers already, then there would be no point in living this life. It takes time and experience to gain the keys to those locked rooms. The language may be foreign now, the direction unclear, clarity muddled by fog, uncertainty in uncertain times, but eventually we walk our way into the clear blue sky.
Resources
Rilke, Rainer Maria. Letters to a Young Poet. Vintage Books a Division of Random House New York, 1984.