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’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 with laughter,

and invite them in.

​

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

Poem: loosely translated from the writings of Rumi by Coleman Barks, from The Essential Rumi, (HarperOne, 2004).

Images: Turquoise Bowl with Lute Player and Audience, late 12th–early 13th century, Iran attribution, on display at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC, U.S.