Difficult Life Tasks
- Marlane Ainsworth

- 3 days ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
Give them your full attention

Late last year I bought a book called A Year with Rilke. It’s a collection of 366 excerpts from the poetry and prose of Rainer Maria Rilke. Each morning, while sipping tea, I read the selection for the day.
This morning’s excerpt comes from his book Letters to a Young Poet. The first line is:
The tasks that have been entrusted to us are often difficult.
Hmm. That’s a heavy thought to start the day with. I was hoping for something lighter, more inspiring, a bit more upbeat.
Ah well. I settle further into the seat to ponder this selection.
Outside my window a lot of tasks are being accomplished. Five swamp hens fossick for succulent roots and shoots among the reeds bordering the property. A couple of crows fly low over the fig trees to check for ripening fruit. Native bees are busy between the pelargoniums and lavender flowers. Dragonflies flit faster than my eyes can follow as they feed on the wing.
It strikes me that everything alive has tasks to do.
I take another sip of tea and muse on my life tasks.
Difficult Life Tasks
Some of my tasks are simple. Wake up. Make a pot of Daily Detox tea. Complete Wordle without losing a percentage point for accuracy.
Some tasks require a bit more effort. Find a publisher for my latest book. Harvest zucchinis before they are big enough to carve into canoes. Find an inexpensive but glamorous swimsuit in shimmering blue tones, that stretches from my neckline to my knees.
And then, as Rilke points out, there are the difficult tasks. Admit I’m wrong. Stop worrying. Settle into stillness.
My takeaway from Rilke’s message is that the tasks that I find difficult are the ones that have been entrusted to me. They are mine. Only I can accomplish them for myself. No one else can. And they are important.
Rilke is implying that, in the greater scheme of things, my simple tasks aren’t super important. Even if I sleep in, the world will keep turning. My morning brew isn’t crucial for survival and Wordle is just a bit of fun.
And, regarding the ones requiring a bit more effort, it doesn’t really matter if I don’t find a publisher because self-publishing is an option. Overgrown zucchinis make great soup or can be chopped up and added to the compost bin. And if I can’t find that ideal swimsuit I can go skinny-dipping or just stand on the shore and admire the play of sunlight on the sea.
But it’s the entrusted tasks that need my full attention. The difficult life tasks. The ones that are totally up to me.
I’m the only one who can admit I’m wrong. I am creating my worrisome thoughts. No one else can pick me up and plonk me down into stillness. In these areas I must accept full responsibility.
I close Rilke’s book, stand up and stretch. I’m awake, the teapot is now empty, and I’ve completed Wordle. It’s time to go online to hunt down suitable publishers, prowl amongst the zucchini vines and add Swimsuit to the shopping list.
And in between all this activity I’ll be on high alert for moments when I need to admit I'm wrong, catch myself worrying so I can stop, and find space to sink into stillness.

By the way, today might be a perfect time for you to pick up a copy of my little gift book, What My Garden Told Me: 21 Inspirational Messages.
The messages may help you with your life tasks, and each messages is accompanied by watercolour artwork that will fill you with happiness at first glance.
If you're in Albany, pop into Paperbark Merchants to grab one, or if you live in Denmark, drop into The Environment Centre for your copy!
Or click on one of the links below for your
copy from Amazon.
Click on this link for a paperback version:
Click on this link for an eBook version:
With love, Marlane



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