Is there enough Rumi at the inn?

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.
— Jellaludin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks
I’m halfway through Jeffrey Smith’s instruction manual, How We Heal and Grow: The Power of Facing Your Feelings. He promises that if we feel our worst feelings in the context of an empathic connection with someone else who is not overwhelmed by them, we will experience catharsis. I’m all for catharsis, but in practise this is not a neat and tidy little project.
My therapist is on vacation and I’m feeling some heavy stuff. I’ll have to rely on my other therapist, Invisible Bob, until she comes back next week. I’m tempted to retreat back to the woo woo temple, where all can be healed in an instant, or so they say. Enough of this messy slog!
But I’ve been visiting that temple more or less regularly for 40 years and still no cigar. I hope between Freud and Bob, somebody has the goods. Hello, Cuba?
