is this how new life begins?

sometimes i think we have so many pre-established ideas of what would make us or others happy, that when we or they really are, we miss it completely. here is to being happy now, not when you find the right job, or the right person, or the right city. here's to an existence based on the reality that nothing is promised, and tomorrow everything might change. and here is to letting others know that kind of existence as well, not allowing our expectations, hopes, or dreams define their realities.

'the departure of the prodigal son' by r.m. rilke

now to go away from all this tangledness
that is part of us and yet not ours,
that like the water in old wells
reflects us trembling and ruins the image;
from all this, which as if with thorns
still clings to us--to go away,
and on this and this, so near at hand,
which almost from the first you ceased to see
(they were so common, so undemanding),
suddenly to gaze: tenderly, full of amends,
as if in a beginning and from up close:
and to see at last how without least malice,
how over everyone indifferently the hurt descends
that filled childhood to the brim--:
and then still to go, hand leaving hand,
as if you were tearing open a new-healed wound,
and to go away: where? into uncertainty,
far into some unrelated warm land
that behind all action keeps its distance
like a backdrop--garden or wall;
and to go away: why? from urge, from instinct,
from impatience, from dark expectation,
from not understanding and not being understood:

to take all this upon yourself and in vain
perhaps let fall things firmly held,
in order to die alone, not knowing why--

is this how new life beings?