I am stunned by what may be the truth that Rilke writes to his friend. When someone we dearly love leaves us - especially suddenly - we are freer to be close to them and they are freer to be close to us. Profound, comforting and life affirming. Will read this many times as I begin to see death from Rilke's perspective.
How extraordinary and wonderful - and yet at the same time not surprising at all - that Rilke was saying the same thing then, as Andrea Gibson was saying so recently: “Why did no one tell us that to die is to be reincarnated in those we love while they are still alive?”
Thank you, again, for sharing such heart-opening letters as you do.
This sent me back to check dates and yes, Rilke had already started writing the Duino Elegies when he wrote this (arguably the most perfect letter of condolence imaginable). From the shock death of a loved one in my youth to my father's long-expected death a few years back, Rilke's wisdom has been a constant and welcome companion. Him and Beethoven.
If you haven't already discovered it, I can thoroughly recommend Anderson Cooper's podcast on grief and loss, called All There Is. It's inspiring on so many different levels.
You're very welcome. He interviews so many different people about "their" experience of grief, that you come away from it realising you have options. There are many, many different ways to grieve, and grief is entirely personal. Which is a quite liberating idea, I think!
Ah ... this will stay with me. For all the griefs to come. Heading to Amazon to buy the Letters of Note: Grief, in hopes it will meet me there. Thank you!
I have felt much the same since the death of my father, but would never have been able to express it so beautifully. This letter calls me to step into my grief about the ecological disaster we are creating and bequeathing to our kids and grandkids. It also speaks to navigating the destruction of our democratic republic.
This is beautiful. It so resonates with my understandings of so-called "death," and shows plainly what an intuitive poet and prophet Rilke is. Here's a poem from the recently deceased 10th poet laureate of Colorado, Andrea Gibson, which makes Rilke's insights even more plain:
LOVE LETTER FROM THE AFTERLIFE Andrea Gibson
My love, I was so wrong. Dying is the opposite of leaving. When I left my body, I did not go away. That portal of light was not a portal to elsewhere, but a portal to here. I am more here than I ever was before. I am more with you than I ever could have imagined. So close you look past me when wondering where I am. It’s Ok. I know that to be human is to be farsighted. But feel me now, walking the chambers of your heart, pressing my palms to the soft walls of your living. Why did no one tell us that to die is to be reincarnated in those we love while they are still alive? Ask me the altitude of heaven, and I will answer, “How tall are you?” In my back pocket is a love note with every word you wish you’d said. At night I sit ecstatic at the loom weaving forgiveness into our worldly regrets. All day I listen to the radio of your memories. Yes, I know every secret you thought too dark to tell me, and love you more for everything you feared might make me love you less. When you cry I guide your tears toward the garden of kisses I once planted on your cheek, so you know they are all perennials. Forgive me, for not being able to weep with you. One day you will understand. One day you will know why I read the poetry of your grief to those waiting to be born, and they are all the more excited. There is nothing I want for now that we are so close I open the curtain of your eyelids with my own smile every morning. I wish you could see the beauty your spirit is right now making of your pain, your deep seated fears playing musical chairs, laughing about how real they are not. My love, I want to sing it through the rafters of your bones, Dying is the opposite of leaving. I want to echo it through the corridor of your temples, I am more with you than I ever was before. Do you understand? It was me who beckoned the stranger who caught you in her arms when you forgot not to order for two at the coffee shop. It was me who was up all night gathering sunflowers into your chest the last day you feared you would never again wake up feeling lighthearted. I know it’s hard to believe, but I promise it’s the truth. I promise one day you will say it too– I can’t believe I ever thought I could lose you.
I am stunned by what may be the truth that Rilke writes to his friend. When someone we dearly love leaves us - especially suddenly - we are freer to be close to them and they are freer to be close to us. Profound, comforting and life affirming. Will read this many times as I begin to see death from Rilke's perspective.
How extraordinary and wonderful - and yet at the same time not surprising at all - that Rilke was saying the same thing then, as Andrea Gibson was saying so recently: “Why did no one tell us that to die is to be reincarnated in those we love while they are still alive?”
Thank you, again, for sharing such heart-opening letters as you do.
Good God this was beautiful
at a loss for words.
I'm lost for words to explain how moving and life-affirming i find this.
Play Beethoven. He is part of the whole.
Indeed.
Beethoven definitely belonged to the whole
This sent me back to check dates and yes, Rilke had already started writing the Duino Elegies when he wrote this (arguably the most perfect letter of condolence imaginable). From the shock death of a loved one in my youth to my father's long-expected death a few years back, Rilke's wisdom has been a constant and welcome companion. Him and Beethoven.
If you haven't already discovered it, I can thoroughly recommend Anderson Cooper's podcast on grief and loss, called All There Is. It's inspiring on so many different levels.
https://edition.cnn.com/audio/podcasts/all-there-is-with-anderson-cooper/episodes/8a87220e-6ee9-4a04-8f6d-af0f00fb0365
I hadn't yet come across this, so many thanks for the recommendation!
You're very welcome. He interviews so many different people about "their" experience of grief, that you come away from it realising you have options. There are many, many different ways to grieve, and grief is entirely personal. Which is a quite liberating idea, I think!
I love Rilke. He was so in tune with humanity’s deeper choruses.
Ah ... this will stay with me. For all the griefs to come. Heading to Amazon to buy the Letters of Note: Grief, in hopes it will meet me there. Thank you!
I think this is one of the most beautiful expressions I’ve ever read. Thank you for sharing with us.
Rilke, Rilke, Rilke... inspired me in youth and now comforts me in middle age. Thank you for posting this ❤️🙏
I have felt much the same since the death of my father, but would never have been able to express it so beautifully. This letter calls me to step into my grief about the ecological disaster we are creating and bequeathing to our kids and grandkids. It also speaks to navigating the destruction of our democratic republic.
Wow. I've only known him through his poetry. This letter has given me a new way of thinking. Thank you.
I believe this is one of the most beautiful expressions I’ve ever read. Thank you for sharing with us.
Thank you for sharing.
This is beautiful. It so resonates with my understandings of so-called "death," and shows plainly what an intuitive poet and prophet Rilke is. Here's a poem from the recently deceased 10th poet laureate of Colorado, Andrea Gibson, which makes Rilke's insights even more plain:
LOVE LETTER FROM THE AFTERLIFE Andrea Gibson
My love, I was so wrong. Dying is the opposite of leaving. When I left my body, I did not go away. That portal of light was not a portal to elsewhere, but a portal to here. I am more here than I ever was before. I am more with you than I ever could have imagined. So close you look past me when wondering where I am. It’s Ok. I know that to be human is to be farsighted. But feel me now, walking the chambers of your heart, pressing my palms to the soft walls of your living. Why did no one tell us that to die is to be reincarnated in those we love while they are still alive? Ask me the altitude of heaven, and I will answer, “How tall are you?” In my back pocket is a love note with every word you wish you’d said. At night I sit ecstatic at the loom weaving forgiveness into our worldly regrets. All day I listen to the radio of your memories. Yes, I know every secret you thought too dark to tell me, and love you more for everything you feared might make me love you less. When you cry I guide your tears toward the garden of kisses I once planted on your cheek, so you know they are all perennials. Forgive me, for not being able to weep with you. One day you will understand. One day you will know why I read the poetry of your grief to those waiting to be born, and they are all the more excited. There is nothing I want for now that we are so close I open the curtain of your eyelids with my own smile every morning. I wish you could see the beauty your spirit is right now making of your pain, your deep seated fears playing musical chairs, laughing about how real they are not. My love, I want to sing it through the rafters of your bones, Dying is the opposite of leaving. I want to echo it through the corridor of your temples, I am more with you than I ever was before. Do you understand? It was me who beckoned the stranger who caught you in her arms when you forgot not to order for two at the coffee shop. It was me who was up all night gathering sunflowers into your chest the last day you feared you would never again wake up feeling lighthearted. I know it’s hard to believe, but I promise it’s the truth. I promise one day you will say it too– I can’t believe I ever thought I could lose you.
Namaste, Friends! <3 Bobby Parrott