Journal page from the heart
I am shamelessly stealing/borrowing this poetry from both Ange and Rumi. Written by the latter, I found it on the former's blog and it sang to me a tune of recognition.
This human being 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
It has been a busy period in this particular 'guest house' - high season for visiting emotions. Some seem to have set up home, while others flit in and out with no regard for reservation or planning. When the Sorrows come to stay with naughty children Depression and Mope they are usually bent on taking over the place, filling every nook and cranny with their dreary moods. They are not the most profitable of house guests that's for sure as they leech productivity and cast a weariness over all in their path. They play mournful tunes and spend too much time in bed. How am I supposed to change the sheets when they are weighing them down?
Fortunately I do believe they are thinking about leaving. I dropped a few hints - like printing out their invoice and packing their suitcases and they sense a shift in my once subconscious welcoming attitude towards them. You see, I've had an enquiry from Joy and Gratitude. They are desperate for a visit and let's face it, who wouldn't open their doors to these moments of sunshine?
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