Ruth, The site is beautiful. What a lovely set up. I've been feeling the metaphor of houses. I've been home for two weeks and have loved being in my home. I usually spend most of my time out doors. The weather and a broken toe and inflamed knee have kept me inside. It's been a lovely adventure. I've slowed down and enjoyed opening the doors to all that has come.
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.
-- J. Rumi
I like this one. I think you sent me some lines from it before, when I was particularly un-accepting of a particular mood of my own.
ReplyDeleteI like it. Invite them in.
A broken toe? Damn. A very odd guide from beyond.
Pamela,
ReplyDeleteThanks for this:
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.
I will chant this now, with news of my Mom being signed up for hospice care yesterday due to her advanced dementia. They say her time is short. She (my Mom) is fine with this, but I am not. The poem lends strength to me at this sad time.
Carolyn, Yes, honorably welcome the sorrow. May your mom be surrounded by light and love as she makes her transition. Are you able to be with her? Can you be the midwife and share in the journey?
ReplyDeletePamela, thank you. I will try. I have proposed to my sister that Mom be here with me through this final phase. My sister, Paige, is understandably reluctant, and has engaged hospice care in Texas. Paige and I have always agreed that Mom will be with me when Paige is tired, and when and if she's not up to it. For most of their lives, my sister and my Mom have been best friends. My sister still feels pulled to be "the one" to be in the forefront of care, so I am the one who is back-up. I have always been OK with this until now - now is more difficult. I call Mom and sing to her and I send photos of times that she enjoyed, and we see each other on Skype when Paige can arrange it. I work full-time, but I'll be able to fly from California to Texas on occasional weekends to be nearby; I know I must cope with this impending loss. I know passing will be better for Mom, and is her preference, now that life has shut down so very much. She is aware of her mental predicament, sometimes, and we talk about it on rare occasions. Each time Mom visits with me, at some time during her visit, she summons the words to let me know that I should be assured that she is ready to go when the time comes. She has said over and over to me during visits when she's in a philosophical mood, and her mind is fairly clear, that she thinks she's had a wonderful life, and could not have wished for anything better than having the family she's loved and the life she's lived - except that she'd rather that Dad still be here. She stresses that his absence for the last 12 years has been so painful for her. Then she cries quietly, and I hold her, and I bring her the lifecast I made of his hands for her to hold. We had this talk again the last time she was here. I am always amazed that she can summon such clarity, if only briefly, and it has fueled my belief that there's still a lot going on in her mind, although it is not often apparent in her response to us.
ReplyDelete