As you land here in this moment,
Turn with intention towards your breath.
Feel it as it comes in.
Feel it as it goes out.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Welcome to a hit of hope,
And fair warning,
This one's a bit salty.
Anybody else out there tempted to tell the sages and the saints to jump into a wood chipper?
Take the poet Rumi,
For instance.
He writes,
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival,
A joy,
A depression,
A meanness.
Alright,
So up to that point,
I'm like,
Okay Rumi,
I'm listening.
What is it I need to know and do?
But you should never,
Ever ask a holy one a question like that,
Because they will gladly slap you upside the head with a porcupine.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Rumi says that we should welcome and entertain them all.
All of the different arrivals,
He means.
The ones we want,
The ones we don't.
And I want to say,
Hold your seahorses,
Rumi.
I am not about to prepare a feast for what he calls the dark thought,
The meanness,
The shame.
I don't want to give room and board to grief,
Anger,
Pity,
Pain.
In fact,
I'd like to exorcise those little vampires who have been sucking me dry when I'm not paying attention.
Why in the hell would I welcome them?
Inhale.
Exhale.
Because sometimes even the hardest guests can bring us gifts.
Inhale.
Exhale.