It Is Time

To quote Rilke:

Herr: es ist Zeit.

I have a daydream that I use to usher myself into sleep. In that dream I am walking in a forest at night, alone. It is winter, and beginning to snow. I am walking toward my hermit's cabin, and, when I get that far before night dreams take over, I enter, light the lamp, light the stove and (sometimes, if I am lonely) greet the cat. I have yet to get farther than that.

Apropos of what ?

It's time to stop parading the messy spectacle of my metaphysical life in public. If there is anything to be salvaged from my various circlings and sojourns, it's humility and this display has been humility's antithesis. That's not to belittle the exquisite pleasure of words, of "finding what will suffice" or the companion pleasure of being read and appreciated. And it's not to dismiss the joy of having found kindred spirits of uncommon graciousness, eloquence and generosity along the way. But (I think) it is time to enter the dream cabin, and continue my (inner) pilgrimage (for it is far from finished) in private. At least for now.

Thank you all for your companionship-in-wandering. You have been lamplight, moonlight and starlight along the way !