Dream: A person asks me, “Do you know the Rumi poem ‘The Guest House’?” I say, “Yes. Yes.”
Most of my dreams never make it into the dream session to be “worked”. In any given session, we discuss anywhere from one to three dreams out of the fifteen to twenty dreams that I have had since the session before. I wonder what happens to those other dreams. Does my psyche integrate them on some level anyway? Should I try to figure them out myself? Sometimes, “un-discussed” dreams find their way back into my conscious mind. Although very brief, this dream is one of them. The poem referenced is “The Guest House”, written by the 13th century Sufi mystic, Rumi. I find it interesting how it keeps showing up in my waking life.
In general, understanding poetry is one of those things in life that has eluded me. I have to admit that my experience has been limited. I did enjoy the A.A. Milne poems that were read to me as a child, but as an adult, I have never been able to “get” poetry. As the dreamwork gradually opens me up to an inner world of images and feelings, I am starting to be able to “get” it.
I recently learned that “The Guest House” is a fairly well known poem to those in the poetry world. I first heard it a few years ago on a tape that a friend lent me but I hadn’t really thought about it again until the dream. So I found it interesting that soon after I had the dream, our minister read it at a church service. Then, a few weeks after that, I heard it recited again during a presentation at work. Hmm, maybe its time to pay some attention to this poem!
I love the internet. Most of us don’t blink an eye any more when “google” is used as a verb, but I am still amazed that I can just type in something like — the guest house rumi — and up pops the poem right there for me to see.
Here it is.
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’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.
~ Rumi ~
(The Essential Rumi, versions by Coleman Barks)
This human existence can be thought of as a guest house. We have a range of experiences and feelings that come to visit us in life. Certain ones we decide are unwanted and so we push them away or bury them deep within. I know I do. What is easy to say but very hard to do is to “welcome and entertain them all” or to “meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.” A lot of times I find myself running from them or not even allowing them in to begin with. A huge gift of the dreams is that they are helping me learn to face the feelings and stay with them. And so I am realizing that this human life is about allowing and even inviting them all in… even if they are a “crowd of sorrows”. Who would want to invite a crowd of sorrows into their house??? But I am now beginning to understand that by inviting them in and letting them stay a little while they do eventually leave and then someone like “joy” comes knocking at the door. As I become more and more “grateful for whoever comes” my life has more depth and meaning.
Its funny when you look back at how one thing leads to another. Paying attention to this short little dream has created an interesting string of events that I would describe as magical. Here’s how it has unfolded: I had the dream ….so I bought a book on Rumi poems … then I heard about a poetry class called “Poetry as a Spiritual Feast” which was to include Rumi …. so I signed up for the class…. I invited my Dad to the class for “bring a friend day”….. he took the poetry packet that was handed out that day home and read it…..in the packet there was a poem called “Layers” by Stanely Kunitz that touched him…..he read it to our family at his 76th birthday party….which got a couple of us to share some other poems (including “The Guest House”)…..which led to the same thing happening at my daughter’s 18th birthday party this past Sunday. At the party, Dad read a special poem to her, which prompted my nephew to recite some poems that he had written himself [he has a poetry website – mahmaou.com – who knew??] ….which then led my husband to share the lyrics to a song he had just written. Recently I was telling a friend about what happened at my Dad’s birthday party and she said, “Wow, your family is really deep.” I laughed and told her that this is not something that normally happens with us. But now that it has happened twice, I am wondering if this is turning into some sort of new family gathering tradition. All this from a dream.
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