Case in point: the following poem popped up in my Facebook feed under some goofy clickbait article about THE POEM THAT HELPED CHRIS MARTIN GET OVER HIS CONSCIOUS UNCOUPLING...BLAH BLAH BLAH. (Seriously.) I clicked.
And I love the poem. I love most Rumi-isms. I was also feeling pretty down about feeling down that day, and so, I wasted no time in grabbing an empty poster-sized frame from a closet—pulled out a magic marker, wrote it down on the back side of the frame's paper insert, and hung it in my hallway.
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.