“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 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.”
— Jellaludin Rumi
Today is Sunday, and normally, on a Sunday I would have a blog under way, or at least an idea of a blog that could be sent off on Monday. But I am not at that place. And I’m not there because pain has zapped all of my energy, and pain meds — taken or not taken — have put me in a fugue mood, which I will now have to look up to see if it means what I think it does.
It doesn’t.
“Mental health professionals can diagnose dissociative fugue disorder using the DSM, or Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. The symptoms are: sudden travel with the inability to recall one’s past and confusion about one’s identity. If these symptoms are causing distress or impairment, and cannot be explained by another condition, it is a fugue state.”
Well, there goes that approach; I’m not in a fugue state. ‘Funk’ might sum it up, but fugue has an appealing sort of onomatopoeia about it. Fugue just naturally bleakens one’s mood. It’s a sludgy-molasses-in-January sort of word that I’m thinking suits me perfectly this early evening. It’s not a state of mind that I’m willing to entertain very often, or for very long. But this funky-wannabe-fugue mood has a place in Rumi’s teachings, and that’s a compelling enough reason to bring in into the room, as they say:
“The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.”
So how does one greet the unwelcome thoughts and emotions that occasionally come calling? How does one incorporate or embrace pain? And how might having my mental furniture, my thoughts, opinions and constructs ‘swept away’ serve my greater well-being? To me, the answer is simple. Know thyself.
I cannot imagine a more important reason to know and master myself than to discern when my thoughts are not my own. Whether they be chemically-induced or brought on by a steady diet of other people’s opinions and beliefs, I need the self-awareness and strength of character to separate these external influences from my authentic thoughts and ideas. That’s what the Buddha meant by: “…after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.”
In last week’s blog I asked “Is there some way to reframe our worldview to include the good, the bad and the ugly that we cannot avoid witnessing? Without becoming cynical and fatalistic, discouraged and defeated? If the point is not to reshape the world to comply with our cherished ideals, in what way might we reshape our minds to embrace the world as it is, and find a purposeful way to exist within it?”
Simply by observing my mind I could recognize the thoughts that were as unwelcome as they were improbable: my Apple Watch was, in all likelihood, not gaslighting me, and my carpet was not deliberately trying to trip my walker. My bath towel was not intentionally trying to sprain my wrist by snagging on the hook, and finding the toilet seat down in the middle of the night was not some kind of evil conspiracy.
It’s easier to spot the ridiculous thoughts than the subtle self-sabotage that says the nurse, surgeon, physiotherapist, receptionist etc. don’t know what they’re talking about. And then give myself permission to act contrary to my best interests. My greatest hedge against that happening is to maintain a consistent spiritual practice. To clear my mind with mantra and/or centering breath work. To observe the inner narrative first in my journal, before giving any power to it.
Then, I can eat a Justin’s dark organic chocolate peanut butter cup and vow that tomorrow will be a different day.
Amen