The Guest House by Rumi
Shared by Sandy Stadelmann
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.
Carol Clary presented and performed a moving song entitled “Where the Music Comes From” by Lee Hoiby
I want to be where the music comes from
Where the clock stops, where it’s now.
I want to be with the friends around me,
Who have found me, who show me how.
I want to sing to the early morning,
See the sunlight melt the snow; (Feel the Love inside me flow)
And oh, I want to grow.
I want to wake to the living spirit
Here inside me where it lies.
I want to listen till I can hear it,
Let it guide me, and realize
That I can go with the flow unending, that is blending, that is real;
And oh, I want to feel.
I want to walk in the earthly garden, far from cities, far from fear.
I want to talk to the growing garden, to the devas, to the deer,
And to be one with the river flowing,
Breezes blowing, sky above;
And oh, I want to love.
Hoiby dedicated this song to “The Guide” and has mentioned that the song came to him on the subway, I believe, in nearly one fell swoop. Please note that Carol changed a few words…the ones about the “morning sunlight” and the “snow.”