This is the paragraph directly preceding the one I posted a couple Fridays ago in Rilke’s letter 8 to a young poet:

How could we forget those ancient myths that stand at the beginning of all races, the myths about dragons that at the last moment are transformed into princesses? Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.

“Act with beauty and courage.” A good reminder.