'A year doesn't matter; ten years are nothing. To be an artist means not to compute or count; it means to ripen as the tree, which does not force its sap, but stands unshaken in the storms of spring with no fear that summer might not come. It does come...'
'But it comes only to those who live as though eternity stretches before them, carefree, silent, and endless. I learn it daily, learn it with many pains, for which I am grateful: Patience is everything!'
--Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
A night hungry with illumination. Wandering round a museum with flashlights, streets aglow with Christmas arrival. And also the thought that all we need is already here, always.
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Ah. Yes. Thank you for this post. I found it at just the right time.
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