The Guest House

I receive emails from the Barn Retreat, part of the Sharpham Trust, which incorporates excellent places to go and meditate, which I wholeheartedly recommend. In amongst the news this came yesterday: a poem (in translation, I think by Coleman Barks) that I have loved for over 25 years. I am posting it here as it is pertinent to our struggles with ourselves. In delusion we fight the bits we don't like about ourselves, and big-up the aspects that make us seem more appealing, more acceptable, perhaps more spiritual, more together, or whatever it is we are judging ourselves on today. Below the poem is the comment that followed it on the email.

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 honourably. 

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.

The Guest House, Rumi

Mindfulness meditation trains us to be present and aware of all that arises. This includes noticing our own 'shame, dark thought and malice' and accepting it as part of the human condition. We then develop the habit of meeting our discomfort with the same compassion we would have for an agitated four-year-old child, fearful because they accidentally upset a friend at school today.