My friend Louise handed this to me yesterday. Not the first time this poem by Rumi has crossed my threshold.
THE GUESTHOUSE
This being human is a guesthouse,
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 thoughts, 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.
I want to comment on my own picture...this is me and hubby with baby Emma 11 years ago...when we thought we were young enough to adopt a 3rd child. The tiaras were Aunt Susan's Christmas gift to Annie and Pearl. I thought this picture did a nice job illustrating Rumi..."this being human is a guesthouse..." and who knows what will enter.
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