The Guest House

On this day, 742 years ago, at Konya Rumi died.  Here in Turkey they call him Mevlana – ‘our teacher’ – and celebrate today as his ‘wedding day’, when he became one with God.

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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.

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2 thoughts on “The Guest House

  1. mandy wilkinson says:

    How wonderful to be there on such an auspicious day! thank you Linda xx

    • Hello Mandy! Thanks for this and your other comments. Back home now to a field even muddier than I left it and lots of fallen trees in the wood, a garden full of sheep…Very happy to have Rumi and that burst of Turkish sunshine inside me for whatever the next few months might bring as the light slowly returns. Hoping you’re well and warm and have a good holiday time. Much love Lx

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