I am 31
And I haven't written in an online journal since I was 23. Now seems like a good time to pick it back up.
I just heard someone on television say "love and fear cannot exist in the same house", and I'm pretty sure that's bullshit. Speaking of houses, this seems relevant today.
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.
- Jellaludin Rumi
Sometimes it feels like all the words that could ever describe my internal experiences have already been strung together so beautifully, and I am at a loss for them. I'm unsure if it is because I have no more words, or because all the words are so stimulating that I can't contain them long enough to put them anywhere in any form that makes sense. I'll have to lean on others for now.
I just heard someone on television say "love and fear cannot exist in the same house", and I'm pretty sure that's bullshit. Speaking of houses, this seems relevant today.
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.
- Jellaludin Rumi
Sometimes it feels like all the words that could ever describe my internal experiences have already been strung together so beautifully, and I am at a loss for them. I'm unsure if it is because I have no more words, or because all the words are so stimulating that I can't contain them long enough to put them anywhere in any form that makes sense. I'll have to lean on others for now.