I am so far away from my self now that I can feel the weaving of the spirit in the light of the world. It doesn't appear clearly to me, it isn't possible to think about it, it seems to be shrouded in mystery, charmed, enchanted. This weaving of the spirit has woven a veil so that I cannot grasp it in its true being. My senses are this veil, they cover my real being. But just by this being veiled my self gains power. Through this being held within its bounds the I can grow in power. It wouldn't be able to give itself this power.
I feel enchanted weaving
Of the spirit in the light of the world.
It has covered my own being
In dullness of the senses,
To give me force:
That is my I within its bounds,
powerless to give itself.
Ich fühle wie verzaubert
Im Weltenschein des Geistes Weben:
Es hat in Sinnesdumpfheit
Gehüllt mein Eigenwesen,
Zu schenken mir die Kraft:
Die, ohnmächtig sich selbst zu geben,
Mein Ich in seinen Schranken ist.
This verses were given by Rudolf Steiner in 1912 / 1913: Anthroposophischer Seelenkalender.