VonnieSawyers300

The Guest Home This being human is a guest home. Every single 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... I went to a women's writing workshop retreat awhile ago for some a lot required R and R. It was great. We had been asked to read a couple of poems and write from that. Here's the very first - a poem by Rumi translated by Coleman Barks. The Guest House This getting human is a guest property. 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 home empty of its furniture, nevertheless, treat each guest honorably. He could 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, since every single has been sent as a guide from beyond. My Extremely Own Guest Property When I bear in mind what Rumi reminds us that all my thoughts and feelings are welcome guests that they come as a guide from beyond, I loosen up and discover what is there to understand. Earlier right now someone said although giving wise counsel, What you resist, persists. I can see the image. I can see a hand pushing back on mine. What occurs? What occurs when I keep not wanting to look at a guest I want to turn her away? If she cant come in the front door, shell come in the back or even the window or chimney. If she is sent by Above to offer you me the gift and blessing to discover something new about how I am or how I can be or what I am carrying out that is not good for me, thank God for her persistence. What would these 64 years be worth if I had not learned by virtue of my self-hatred that I am loveable? What would they be worth if I had not learned that forgiveness frees me of the unfavorable power ties binding me to those that hurt me? What if I hadnt learned that I can have adore and respect and be valued above rubies by a beautiful, type, intelligent and inventive man? What if I had stayed lost in pot or food or abusive relationships? What if I had not healed my really sick body? What if I had allowed my ever persistent ego to preserve me proper instead of content and peaceful? What if I stayed hurt and broken and didnt learn that with every single encounter came gifts of understanding and really like? This becoming human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. I wonder whod packing her suitcase this quite minute obtaining been sent from Above to guide me to my subsequent beyond? city garage