In recent discussions I have been contemplating whether everything that comes into my senses has a reason. Is it just flotsam and jetsam drifting through my life or is there a deeper meaning. I am finding that the more I try and stay open, non judgemental and compassionate (hardest of all), the more wonders the universe shows me. My life is richer now than it ever was and as I clear more of the materialistic rubbish out, that I have collected over the last 50 years, it gets sweeter each day. It’s a shame that it took me so long to get on the right path,
I am determined to become a centenarian so that I can at least say that I only wasted half my life closed off to the mysteries. The Rumi poem below says it all, and better than I ever could.
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 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.