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.
—
Jellaludin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks
I often wish that the (very) short meditation
at the close of class could go on and on, or at least for about 20
minutes! I relish so much that short
pause when the class is done but we haven’t yet begun what’s next. After we
have worked the body, maybe rebalanced, enervated, stretched and otherwise gotten
the bodily fluids moving as well as the breath. Sitting in meditation in this state is such a
completely different experience to sitting down “Cold.” I find that I am able
to observe what ever is happening with a quieter detachment. This poem popped
into my mind during this pause at the end of class this morning and if I could
recite it from memory I would have.
Barring that, here it is! Enjoy!
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