"The Guest House" by Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
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.
Emotions are an intriguing, odd thing. From the simple joy of Saturday morning tea, to the deep darkness of a loved one lost, emotions are a spectrum that pull and push our hearts daily.
I first heard "The Guest House" on Coldplay's newest album, "A Head Full of Dreams," and was awestruck by its beauty. Coldplay understands the power and the sentiment found in this poem, as they reflect the words with simple piano music and ethereal sound.
But as I took the time to read and reflect on this poem further, I found a bit of myself, and all of humanity, in it.
We are vessels. We are not merely independent beings floating aimlessly in space--we were meant to be used by the wise hand of our Creator. We are a guest house, caring for not only others, but ourselves as well. We house thoughts, feelings, and passions. We were meant to experience every emotion under the sun--we are not held back from the joy, and we are not held back from the sorrow.
Often times we like to sugarcoat things. We want life to be sickeningly sweet, rolled in sugar and deep fried in happiness. We worship this happiness, doing all and only what gives us that little joyful flutter in our souls. We shove other emotions out, we silence the pain, the sorrow, and the meanness, as their ugliness cast a harsh contrast. We tell them they do not have any room in our bright white smiles and glistening eyes.
But this sort of happiness is an artificial sweetness. Sooner or later, the pain will become too much. Our hands, our minds, everything will grow tired from trying to pin up our perfect little worlds.
Pain does not become any less real by avoiding it. But by reading Rumi's poem, by reflecting on it, we realize that perhaps sorrow, meanness, and pain, all have their place. Of course, these emotions come from brokenness, from an emptiness or from a thorn that is the center of our heartbreak. Sorrow and despair are the effects of a fallen world, a good creation shattered by sin.
But our God is a good God still. Praise Him, that He is able to piece together our broken worlds into beautiful mosaics. And that He takes and creates a magnificent wholeness in us, again.
Do not simply acknowledge your pain--understand it. Listen to it. Listen to the laughter, the tears, and the fits of rage, as all have arrived for a reason. Find others who understand it, who have experienced the deepest laughter and the darkest nights. And know, that this sorrow is simply a guest. Some guests are polite, lovely and kind, filled to the brim with "pleases" and "thank you's". Others are disrespectful, mouths open while they chew, muddy feet up on the coffee table.
But there is such beauty found in letting each of these emotions run their course, letting each one have their say. Each emotion is simply the effect of being human. Sorrow is not wrong, tears are not wrong, confusion is not wrong. I have found that some of the deepest, most powerful lessons have been taught in my darkest moments, during the nights where salty tears soaked through my pillow, and the morning only brought deeper despair. So, "...treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight." These are the lessons we will be taught, if only we turn a willing ear to listen.
We would not be who we are without our pain. My dear friend Tori brought to light 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, telling me about Paul and "the thorn" in his side. Paul struggled--he prayed fervently, earnestly, for this hurt and affliction to flee. But he, and we, are allowed these infirmities because God uses this pain, these thorns in our side, to portray His power, and to walk with us in our suffering. His might becomes even brighter in the face of adversity. What is faith without trials and tribulation? He tells us, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” We are swallowed up completely in His grace, being raised up like the dawn of every day. We are humbled, that God uses these wounds and perfectly rearranges our ailment to make us even more like Him.
So, listen to anger's burning temper, understand sorrow's origins, and beam brightly at joy's delight, as every single one is making room for you to understand God's grace, deeper still, with each coming day.