Quidnovi: This being human is a guest house.    
 This being human is a guest house.4 comments
picture17 May 2003 @ 23:41, by Quidnovi

Every morning
a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and attend 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...

---Jelaluddin Rumi

There are wild
wandering sufis
called qalandars, who are constantly tickled
with life.

It's scandalous how they love
and laugh at any small event.

People gossip about them,
and that makes them deft
in their cunning, but really
a great God-wrestling goes on
inside these wanderers, a flood of sunlight
that's drunk with the whole thing.

Someone's putting a spell on me,
another expects me to repent,
another runs alongside without feet!
Drunk inside the whole thing.

Friends rush out in the rain
to be soaked with the sky.
Eyesight holding understanding,
the moon's polite manner.

Tell the soldier about to go to war
how the cypress tree is turning
green, drunk with the forest.

A country with no roads or religions
could possibly be...drunk
with the whole thing...

Tell the festival of sacrifice,
tell the Qur'an, tell the gate of heaven,
there's a bunch out here singing
and drunk with the whole.

---Jelaluddin Rumi

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18 May 2003 @ 01:29 by shawa : Thanks, Francis...
...for reminding us these things. (The image is very powerful.)  

18 May 2003 @ 15:25 by sindy @ : *smile*
Thanks quidnovi for this wisdom, for we are all guest to our bodies, and its good to always welcome what has been given to all, bows to you>  

18 May 2003 @ 15:27 by sindy @ : the key
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond...
Jelaluddin Rumi  

18 May 2003 @ 15:35 by scotty : Without the light of the sun,
there is indeed no colour.

'Tis light makes colour visible: at night red, green, and russet vanish from thy sight,
So to thee light, by darkness, is made known:
All hid things by their contraries are shown.
Since God hath none,
He, seeing all, denies
Himself eternally to mortal eyes.  

Other entries in
28 May 2003 @ 16:28: Bobbing for Apples
3 Apr 2003 @ 14:30: The Lathe of Heaven---Ursula K. Le Guin
2 Oct 2002 @ 17:02: The Disease of Images

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