Today, in my kitchen, at 10:30am, I’m reading “Letters to a Poet” by Rilke – into my Voice Record Pro App.
I haven’t yet walked the dog Louis.
How many years is it since I first heard of Rilke?
Was it David Whyte who made the introduction?
Why did I find Rilke so tough, so steely, that I didn’t have the confidence to read him?
What’s happened that I don’t have any such fear now?
How come Rilke feels like the most relevant writer to converse with, to have dialogue with, to have an internal life with?
What’s going on inside me?
Probably it was Maria Popova in Brainpickings who was the tipping point.
She often brings Rilke into her Sunday newsletter which arrives just after 9am.
I associate her with Rilke, and relish the snippets she shares.