The Antibody Network ·The Clearing
Reading 3 of 5 Practice Without an End

What to do with what comes

Rumi names the practice of hospitality toward your own experience.

The reading — Rumi, Masnavi V.157 (Coleman Barks translation; faithful translation from Persian)

The Guest House

BARKS TRANSLATION

This human being is a guest house. Every morning a new guest arrives.

Joy, depression, 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. Each 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.

―

FAITHFUL TRANSLATION (from the Persian Masnavi)

This body is a guest house, O young man; every morning a new guest arrives running. Do not say: “this will remain upon my shoulders,” for it immediately flies back into non-being. Whatever comes from the unseen world, is a guest in your heart — receive it with joy.

Source: Masnavi-ye Maʻnavi, Daftar V, v. 157 (ganjoor.net/moulavi/masnavi/daftar5/sh157)

The framing

This being human is a guest house. Every morning, a new arrival. Rumi’s instruction is unsentimental: invite them in. Even the unwanted ones. Especially the unwanted ones. They are clearing you out for some new delight.

The poem does not ask you to enjoy your suffering. It asks you to stop fighting the fact that it is in the house. Most contemplative practice, when you strip the metaphysics off it, comes down to this: meet what is actually here, not what you wish were here. Rumi is one of the most beautiful expressions of that instruction we have.

Carry with you
Who is at the door of your guest house today that you have been keeping outside?