Being the Guest House
After the poem by Rumi
You suggested we should invite them all in
so we did, and chaos reigned supreme for some years.
But then slowly we saw between the chaos,
between the shadows, there were shafts of light.
Behind the dust there was a spiders web that spun gold
and the diamonds of dew in our hair shone brightly,
bringing joy back into the dusty rooms.
We slowly packed them all up and moved house.
The poem The Guest House by Rumi has been very influential in our life and we have lived by its tenets for many years. Events recently have been challenging and this response to it came to me after all these years. If you are not familiar with the original poem here it is, found widely on the internet and in many collection of his writings.
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’re 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…
