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 are 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 whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
I have been thinking about this poem for days, ever since my new favorite yoga teacher shared it in class. After years of yanking up the welcome mat before certain emotional guests arrive, or meeting them at the door with clenched teeth, or sabotaging their visit by leaving the toilet paper roll empty in the guest bath, I am finally learning to make peace with their sporadic arrivals.
But showing gratitude for their visits…well, I’m still working on that part.
Maybe more yoga will help.
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P.S. Have you clicked on that big orange button up there today?
Only one more day to vote! Thanks much!