- the below poem, quite important to me, hangs in my house. a dear friend was visiting recently & on a whim, i just knew he'd "get" it, REALLY get it...
"will you read it to me?" my friend said, so i did, & he exhaled, "wow. i got goosebumps..."
today i lunched w/other friends who dropped in unexpectedly, & what a happy surprise it was to see them, married nearly 30 yrs, immersed & freed for life as artists, about to move north to start their next chapter together, best friends, fiercely loyal, aware how lucky they are to have one another, & never taking their loved ones for granted, even ones like me whom they don't see much... well, to know people like this, ones who effortlessly understand, empathize, "get it," w/whom words can be superfluous bc we seem to have an emotional language, even when separated for long periods of time... i so love having these beautiful souls in my life.
- they didn't see it, but i suspect these friends, too, might get the below poem, also... what do you think about it? do you relate? does it help? i hope so.
The Guest HouseThis 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. (rumi, coleman barks translation)
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