The Guest House

On a completely other note, Colleen read this poem by Rumi yesterday, at the end of an amazing yoga class in Sag Harbor, that was about ebbing and flowing like the ocean (backbending and forward bending, breathing in and breathing out—a circle). Just to put things in perspective.

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’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 laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

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