Thursday, April 23, 2015

Waking Up

There are crocus blooming in my yard.  This is big news because after the winter we've had I do not take such signs of life for granted.  There are trees down in the woods and the rhododendron plants may not come back this time.  The splashes of purple and white are a welcome sight and will hopefully signal to others that it's safe to come out of the ground.

Over the last month I have composed a dozen posts.  None were right ~ not the words or the tone or the message.  I wondered if perhaps I was done writing here, but I decided to wait and see if the words came to me.  I have read books and watched movies, looking for clues, which was an impossible task really because so many things have been impossible to explain.

This is April vacation for me this week.  I have a lot to do so I have several projects going on at once.  If life is already busy why not tear apart closets while I'm at it?  I got into a closet yesterday that needed going through and found all kinds of office supplies I have been looking for for months.  At the bottom of a pile of papers was a copy of a poem that someone gave me several years ago.  I do that sometimes, leave poems mixed in with papers or books so that I come across them later.  It's like planting surprises for myself, although it's not a surprise when the words are exactly the ones I need.

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 -

These are the words that came to me, literally. 
Because the journey continues, I'll be back soon ~ 

9 comments:

Lois said...

I have had a tough time blogging as well, and finally gave in and began a new one. I don't know why that seems to have helped. It has cleared a block it seems.

Helen said...

Yay for the colors of spring beginning to show in Maine!

I enjoyed the poem you shared. How true -- we do not have the luxury of barring the less than wonderful moments that are part of life and human interaction. With each "arrival", we entertain them, accept them, think about them, assimilate them, and use them to grow and enhance our selves.

One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

It will lift
have had same thoughts you have had...
and this is one of my
favorite poems.

Anonymous said...

I love your use of seasons as metaphors. Yes, poems are flowers, appearing when we need them. And yes, I did need this one.

Wisewebwoman said...

Love that poem, my life at the moment, I blot about the ordinary while I bleed underneath.

XO
WWW

teri said...

Thanks dear friend for finding this poem for all of us. xooxxo teri

Laura said...

One of my favorite poems… spring is so welcome after this very long and weighty winter.

RURAL said...

Blogging is made up of waves that ebb and flow...when you are floundering just relax, and float for awhile. Your words are so much part of our lives, that there would be a hole in our blogging hearts if you left.

It will come back, it always does.

Jen [Muddy Boot Dreams]

cindy said...

Love this Rumi poem and your story that fit it so well. I had a thing where I floundered on my blog after ten years of posting almost daily--I came to the end of that road and couldn't figure out a new topic to write about...I tried out so many things and was so dissatisfied! I stopped blogging for a few weeks and then decided to post only when I really had something to say and not worry about a topic. It's just me now:) I like your posts because they are always so Sharon. xo