I would like to beg of you, dear friend, as well as I can,
to have patience with everything
that remains unsolved
in your heart.
Try to live the questions themselves,
like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Letters to a Young Poet
Lately, as I work with the manuscript, I find myself translating my own words, trying to figure out what I was saying, what I meant, and what I might mean now. It is interesting. I don't recognize the words in some way, though I do, and I realized it is odd to realize we are always translating and interpreting, though we may not realize it, and then, there is a place where we are not, and, that, too, is a lovely place to be.
