The books of Rainer Maria Rilka were the jumping-off point from my “maybe-become-a-poet” phase to entering fulltime the work of meditation, over three decades ago. You could say that it was good Rilke who pushed me out of the airplane, when I still was holding the doorway and thinking that the parachute of intellectual pursuits might not work out properly, and I had not yet trusted a true spiritual immersion as a person in the modern world:
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