We are guests here and we are stewards. We are transient and we are liminal. We are never alone and yet such effort must be made to maintain connection...
There will be no lengthy introduction for today's post. Rumi was a 13th c. Persian poet whom I adore. I have been reading through a collection of his poems on and off all day today and have settled on a single piece of his for today's post.
Read it once, perhaps twice, and if you feel joy, maybe a third time...
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
— Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks