Writing and Spirituality? Rainer Maria Rilke

I have been re-reading Rainer Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet. I must confess that the first time I read it it was all a bit of a blur. Something I always knew I should read. The first time I remember hearing of it, for my sins, was when Whoopi Goldberg mentions it to Lauren Hill in Sister Act Two. Not the most auspicious or intellectual of sources but it stayed with me none-the-less.
As I was reading in bed last night it amazed me the comparisons that the book draws with many philosophical thinkers. I have mentioned before that my friends and I are desperate to find some deeper meaning and enlightenment in our lives and as a result over the years I have read numerous tomes of self help and enlightenment.
It started with The Celestine Prophecy and the whole coincidence thing that comes with it, Everyday Zen, Channelling Auras, Tao Te Ching and Eckhart Tolle to name a few. I’ve dipped in and out of these books over the years finding what I’ve needed at that particular time and moved on. I am not the most disciplined or diligent seeker of truth but like everything else I do hope to find the time to do it properly someday.
Back to Rilke, it struck me last night, me being as ignorant as I am, that the words that he writes to this young poet are easily comparative to those of the now considered masters of spiritual enlightenment. There is nothing in this book that I haven’t read many times over the years and these letters are somewhat more eloquent than many others I have read, the man was a poet after all. His view on women and their contribution to society seem way ahead of their time and I can’t imagine these progressive, for the time, ideas having many fans in the polite society of that time. And it was his recognition that women would escape the confines of men that really fired me up. Was he a feminist? I don’t know. Before today I naively thought him a poet and a writer of letters.
Of course Google quickly informed me that he has long been considered a philosopher and Lady Gaga, someone I admire, even has a tattooed quote from one of his letters somewhere on her person.
'In the deepest hour of the night, confess to yourself that you would die if you were forbidden to write. And look deep into your heart where it spreads its roots, the answer, and ask yourself, must I write?'
Some say it is pretentious. I don’t know if I agree or think that she wanted to pay homage to something that spoke to her. I think prefer to believe the latter. It certainly is a beautiful question and one I am trying to answer in the affirmative.
So I wasn’t the first person to realise the genius of the man but at least I learned something and it gives me another common interest with the Lady herself.
Follow any of the links to find out more about the books on Amazon.

Hunting the Muse

There seems to be a collective sense of restlessness around at the moment. My friends and I have been discussing it at some length. Everyone is feeling the need to expand their horizons and find something fulfilling that has nothing to with work, material things or consumerism. They talk of finding hobbies and seeking some kind of enlightenment. For a few lucky ones there is something concrete, definite that they want to pursue but for the rest of us we find ourselves flailing around hoping to chance upon that which will bring us the answers.
This, certainly in my case, seems to be the problem; the procrastination of it all. Thinking about doing something and bemoaning the fact that there is no time to do it. I’m lucky in the fact that I have a fairly good job that means I only work four days a week but that job also means I have more than enough work to do when I’m not actually there. Could I be more organised with my time? Well I’ve certainly made an effort this year and it seems to be paying off. So why is it that there still aren’t enough hours in the day? Procrastination again.
When I finished my first, as of yet, unpublished novel I thought that would be the start of a rushing flow of ideas and writings. It wasn’t to be. Nothing has come as fully formed as that first piece of work and as a result I grew disheartened and have only recently realised I am going to have to work much harder to get it done. I’ve a few ideas but none of them as solid as that first one and I can’t seem to decide which one is most worth pursuing.
In this, my dilemma, is at least something of an answer. Listening to my friends and observing myself I’ve realised that what seems to be lacking from each of our lives has one thing in common; the need to be creative or exploratory. None of us seem much interested in earning more money or getting ahead at work. We want to be creative. We feel that this is what will give our lives most fulfilment.
So as I sit with a new notebook in front of me with freshly sharpened pencils, a rather sedentary act to an outsider, what in fact I am doing is hunting down the muse. She/He is very reluctant to be found at the moment but I’m determined not to give up. I’ll sit here for as long as it takes, hopefully. I shall not be discouraged!
In the meantime these little blogs are words on a page at the end of each day and surely that means that the muse is at least within shouting distance just hiding away for now. Maybe they’re making me wait until I’ve paid my penitence for ignoring them for so long. I quite like the idea that I must prove my worth again. All very romantic and to some completely insane but you just never know.

Here Comes the Sun

Summer has arrived and with it longer days and less clothes. It has taken me a little longer this year to warm up to the idea but it has finally happened this week and being half term I’ve made the most of it.
Drinking wine in the garden and eating bread, olives, cheese and salady things. Trying to be healthy and failing mostly but its back to work next week and if you can’t gain half a stone on holiday when can you?
Yesterday we cycled to a little country pub we know and sat out by the river drinking pear cider and eating chips; getting excited about our upcoming jolly to the south of France. It was an idyllic day and there aren’t enough of them. Everything has to come together at the right moment, the weather, the mood, the right friends being free. With this being the start of English Summertime I fear it maybe over before it’s begun. This is why the other half and I have made a deal to make the most of each day, for the second year running, weather permitting or otherwise. We did it last year and whilst everyone else was moaning about not having much in the way of sunshine we had a great summer that cost very little and was lots of fun. So I urge everyone to do the same. It’s all weather so enjoy it for what it is come rain or come shine.

Like Bees to Honey by Caroline Smailes

I have followed Caroline's writing since her debut novel In Search of Adam was published. Her use of language and the way she plays with space on the page, fonts and dialect are unique and cleverly presented adding that something extra to each of her books. The page and the book itself are as much a part of the story as... well the story.

When I heard about the subject matter of this new novel I was excited to read it. It seemed an age from that first glimpse on her "magical blog" until actual publication date. The buzz surrounding this book was palpable. Everyone was excited! People were talking about it all over the web. Then it was released; and ahead of schedule. There it was, as I walked into my local Waterstone's, on the front table the first book you see as you walk through the door. The cover is marvellous! Better in the flesh than it appeared on the photos. Delicious and summery; smelling of sun, sand and the dust of Malta.

The whole adage that you can't judge a book by its cover, in this case, completely wrong.

From the opening page to the end I was hooked, spirited away to an island that before reading this book I had associated with churches and very little else. It is due to Caroline's delectable use of description that Malta is now on my must visit soon list. Over the years Armistead Maupin's San Francisco based Tales of the City and Mma Ramotswe's Botswana have inspired wanderlust and luckily I've had the privilege of touring California whilst the other I hope to see one day.

The sense of place, in this, Caroline's third novel certainly gives Joanne Harris' s France a run for its money. As for the characters, each are complicated and exquisitely drawn. A toenail painting, reality TV addicted Jesus, a northern lesbian ghost and an Italian visionary to name but three.

The protagonist's, Nina's, journeys both physical and spiritual are absorbing, emotional and unputdownable. This is a book that will stay with you for a very long time after reading. There is even a cameo from one of the characters from her first novel which I was most pleased with myself to notice.

This is certainly the best book I have read of this year so far and I think that the time for Caroline's popularity is about to soar like a jet plane on its way to a tiny island in the med. If you haven't already go out and buy it immediately; Like Bees to Honey can be bought here.