“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.”
It’s been an emotional, up and down kind of week. I do find solace in this little space though. I sit here quite a bit, surrounded by my journal, a cup of coffee, a snack (I admit I had left over coconut rice and green curry for breakfast – how could I not?), and two dogs and probably two kids. Sometimes I edit here. Sometimes I get the rare opportunity to nap here.
But mostly I look out my window and look at the three mountain tops I can see in the distance and I breathe.
My world is too full to talk about. But it is mine.
If you need a place to breathe because your world is also too full, the other end of my couch is open. Finley will share.
I’ll leave you with one more poem by Rumi –
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,