A Simple Offering of Surrender

This week’s offering is simple. It is the offering to you of a Rumi poem that answered the wave of despair that greeted me as I woke up from my nap last Sunday afternoon. It came to me through one of the members of a group of deeply involved, intensely transforming Outrageously Open lovers that I am a part of and it showed up right on time, as always.



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.

— Jelaluddin Rumi,

translation by Coleman Barks

A couple weeks ago, in one of the Living Outrageous Openness calls, Tosha Silver  used a Sanskrit word that carries  the meaning of stump or tree trunk within. I do not recall the precise word, but I do recall the feeling I had on hearing it. It brought to my mind the phrase that undergirds all that I do these days. Love Deeply Rooted. That coupled with the feeling of rooting down through my pelvis, through my feet into the ground and back up through all of my bodies.


As I read the poem above in response to the despair that was waving over me,  I felt the trunk expand into my entire body, flexible, filled with sparkling pastels,shimmering sparkling light in pinks and greens and teals and yellows and golds, blues, violets, electric throughout my bodies.  The colors of the rainbow interspersed with sparkling silver whites.


The unexpected guests who would violently sweep my house clean? They cannot sweep this stable trunk of sparkling shimmering light away. They can sweep the house clean of all that is not REAL.


But this shimmering sparkling pastel light? It cannot be swept away!

It is in me, as me, bubbling up out of me in the middle of every despair, every moment of questioning the point of it all, questioning the point of the next breath, and it surrenders laughing into the questions because it knows.


“The dark thought, the shame, the malice.

Meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.”


Hehehehe!! Yes indeed!!  Meet them at the door laughing!! Little do they know!!

To add your voice to the dialog, please add a comment below.

For last week’s offering, go here.


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