After doing yoga yesterday (and definitely feeling the muscle aches today), and continuing this painful journey of divorce, not knowing when or where I will find a job, feeling a bit rootless, missing my daughter, and also being filled with gratitude for this journey I’ve been on all year, I thought of a Rumi poem that I have always loved.  Here it is:

The human being is a guest house
Every morning there is 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
and empty it from its furniture
still, treat each guest honourably.
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 whoever comes,
because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

2 Thoughts on “The Guest House

  1. I always think of this poem when I’m doing utkatasana, that painful standing pose when you’re bending your knees and reaching up with your hands. I’m sure utkatasana is good for something, but I don’t know what. I just keep the faith that the pain will bring in strength or understanding or some damn thing. I’m still waiting. Glad you returned to yoga–it’s a guest house writ large.

  2. I love this. I was recently told to look at all the strife as blessings. I meditated on that this morning.

    for Mia, utkatasana “chair pose” is great for core strength! hug those abs towards the spain and feel the freedom!

    much love

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