Moving Too Fast

I feel ill. I have pushed my body too far once again, and I am (once again) paying the price. I try to learn, but everybody needs something...

Now I am curled up in bed reading Rilke. I was advised to re-read letter #7 from Letters to a Young Poet. It was so appropriate. He gives wonderful advice, especially in times of confusion. I am confused, and I have nearly given up trying to predict things. But what I know is that these friendships I have made, old and new, are a blessing.

I know I have posted this excerpt in the past, perhaps more than once. But it something I cannot help returning to...

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 to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And 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.

-Rainer Maria Rilke