Don't search for the answers, which could not be given you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now.
Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without ever noticing, live your way into the answer.
How long do you wait?
What if you're tired of waiting?
Is there ever a point in your life when you no longer have to wait for things to fall into place- when the answers to the Big Questions (Will I Find Love?, Will I Marry?, Where Will I Live?, What Will My Career Be?, When Will Those Around Me Die?, Will I Have Kids?, Will I Be Happy?, When Will I Die?) are clear?
And what if the answers you seek are more pressing issues- things you don't have the time to sit around and wait for? Answers such as...Is This the Right Path For Me? or If I Marry This Person, Will I Be Passing Up the Chance at Someone I Love More Later On?
I've had a constant journal for over six years, and if I've realized anything from reading back over the pages, it's that I'm An Idiot. The things I thought, worried about, and analyzed over way back when all eventually fell into one of two categories: they became resolved (as in I waited, and got my answer) or I totally forgot about them (as in, they became unimportant).
Well, what if by the time we get the answers we're waiting for now we won't care about them anymore? Was it really prudent to have ever waited for them at all?
And if that's the case, are we to just go through life, trying to ignore those questions entirely without ever pausing to ponder whether they will ever matter to us again?
Or, are our journals to serve solely as reminders of the things we once valued enough to write about? I know that when I read over them, I often laugh at the questions I asked before I got my answers. And, as the enlightened-by-the-future reader I am, I can look back at those and wonder how I ever worried about something working out (knowing that it did, later on) or cared so much to write so many pages about something (knowing that I wouldn't write so much as a post-it note on the subject now).
What worries me most, I guess, is the thought that in our anxiety over those answers right now, we might be missing other answers that are right in front of our faces...other answers, other opportunities, other people. Will dreaming or fretting about the future change how we see our present, and will that, in turn, change our future?
Rilke makes an interesting point, though, and I guess it's the depth of his argument that causes me to read that quote day in and day out, to post it above my computer and on the front page of every journal I write in.
He's almost advocating that we DO forget the questions now, but not in a forgetful sense.
Instead, we accept them. We go on with life, and accept that they will either work out or be forgotten in the future. We "live into the answers" without noticing it because we have forgotten to keep asking the questions.
What's more, he suggests we love this moment- this time when life is a mystery, when we don't know where it will go. I have a friend who always picks up books and reads the ending before he will read the entire thing. He would rather know that there is a satisfying ending to the book than read the whole thing, only to be disappointed. I, on the other hand, would rather be enthralled by the mystery, feel my pulse race as my imagination goes over the possible outcomes, worry if the people are going to get together at last after so many trials and tribulations or if they will succumb to the pain of a failed relationship...to wonder if the hero will finally succeed or if he, too, will fall like so many before him.
And even though those books may be amazing books, any avid reader knows that NOTHING is like reading it for the first time. The times after that are fun and interesting, but nowhere near as vivid, since we already know what is going to happen. But that first time is awesome.
Maybe that's how life should be as well. Rilke is telling us that we should enjoy our life's unanswered questions like a good mystery novel (or, in our case, epic sagas). You don't know the answers yet because that's all part of the experience. Sure, it would be comforting sometimes to be able to pick up the book that is Your Life and read the ending, but it sure would kill the rush, wouldn't it?
It hurts...sometimes...to wish for something so hard and not know if it will ever happen. The worry can keep you up at night, give you nightmares, fill your journals with pages and pages of angst...will I get the life I want...will I ever see this person again...will I be happy...will I be someone I can admire...
It hurts to not be able to know these things now. But if Rilke is right, and those moments are the best chapters of our lives, then they have to be cherished as much as any ending, no matter how much they make us write, scream, fret, and cry.
