This summer, within a few days, I would be traveling to Bayreuth for the first time in my life.
I will be listening to the performances of Tristan und Isolde, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg, and Parsifal.
Naturally I am filled with great expectations. Wagner was, has been, and is the creative genius of my love, and attending the Bayreuth festival has been one of my dreams.
I am 46 now. To think it took more than 30 years to realize one's wish inspires one with strange emotions.
There are many spiritual creatures lurking in one's expectations. They have their own life forms, timelines for development. Sometimes they bear fruit, and other times perish. To come to something in actuality has nothing to do with the fulfilment of one's expectations. Expectations have their own territory, where Queens and Kings with no parallels in the real world reign in the darkness and mist.
When I am seated in the Festspielhaus in Bayreuth, and the lights go out, as the first notes resound, I will have finally found a restful tomb for all these wonderful creatures that have been lurking in my expectations.