Seeing with New Eyes
This being human is a
guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a
meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
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.
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.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Jellaludin Rumi,
(translation by Coleman Barks)
For many years this poem has provided insight and inspiration to me. It
reminds me daily of the journey of acceptance. It also points clearly to the
unseen potential in our responses which can open the way for sensing or seeing something
new and sometimes, unexpected.
Some years ago a wise friend opened my eyes to this potential. During a
period when I was quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) despairing of my pain she
alerted me to the fact that maybe the way I was seeing was part of the problem.
At a time when it was painful and difficult to walk for more than ten minutes,
she turned to me one day and said, “But can you be happy with that?” I sat
there looking at her in a perplexed way thinking - what does she mean? Doesn’t
she see and hear my pain? With a quiet assertion, she gently asked again, “But
can you be happy with that?”
I sat there for some time, eventually and very hesitantly saying, “I
suppose so”. Not a resounding response,
but she had planted a seed. She exposed something I had not seen. For some time
it still puzzled me. However, as I continued to meet with her and began to investigate
the thoughts that arose in response to my pain, I began to see what she was
pointing to.
One night when awoken yet again in the night, I had a clear insight.
Instead of continuing my fearful self-talk, “Oh no, I can’t sleep, I am awake
again.” I suddenly thought, “What if I focused on the fact that I had slept,
even if it was only half an hour since I was last awake. Each time I awoke from
that point on, I said, “I am grateful I slept, I am grateful I slept”. Over a
period of some months, my sleep pattern began to shift. I began to sleep for
longer and longer periods, until eventually I was sleeping through the night.
These days if I am awake in the night, I still acknowledge my gratitude
for the sleep I have had and I acknowledge that, even though I am awake, I am
resting. Sometimes I am gifted by the sound of one of the birds also awake - a lone voice in the night. I am always reminded of The Beatles’ song, “Blackbird
Singing in the Dead of Night” and I am grateful.
Even in places of pain and darkness there are gifts to be found.
Sometimes they are hidden in plain sight, just outside our present view.
Sometimes, it takes a kind friend to quietly and gently expose them. Other
times, our deeper wisdom speaks to us clearly, sometimes in the dead of night.
I have a tendency to berate myself with thoughts such as: "I should have marked another exam." I only ran 5 kilometers but could have run 8 kilometers." And so forth. However, I will now endeavour to say, "I am grateful that I marked a few exams." Or, "I am grateful that I ran 5 kilometers." I really like this positive twist, and hope to see its effect on me.
ReplyDeleteThank you for a wonderful post.