"Let the beauty we love be what we do."

Every day we wake up empty and frightened

Don't go to the study and pull out a book,
Take down a musical instrument instead
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are a hundred ways
To kneel and kiss the ground.

(Rumi, translation Coleman Barks) 

Rumi's pieces have filled my soul since I was introduced to him back in college.   The piece above has been my favorite for the last five or six years.  Particularly the words Let the beauty we love be what we do. That a person should follow their bliss and be what they are most impassioned to do.  It has been a mantra and a goal of mine since I first read the words.  I'm not there yet but it's a journey.  

And so tonight I was reminded again of a Rumi poem that a friend of mine shared with me a few months ago.  I had read it once in my Rumi book and then  not thought upon it after until my friend shared it and I began to think of the actual meaning of the words.  Then, a few weeks ago the leader of my mediation group shared it with us in conjunction with a discussion on "feelings."  I'm working with the same themes in my therapy.  How emotions are like clouds.  They come and go and change as often as the weather--passing clouds.  And then, on Monday, it struck me to send this poem to my soldier, tucked away in a card, in the hopes to share a little peace if he's needing it.

The poem is called The Guest House and deals with emotions coming and going and that one should welcome them into their being, experience them and let them stay and leave as they please and need because often they are clearing out the old and bringing in the new.

Emotions.  They seem to be the focal point of my struggle this week.

And so I'll share these words with you and hope they bring some comfort and ease into your week. 

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 laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

(Rumi, translation by Coleman Barks)

Namaste.