The Nightmare

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

The Nightmare

I woke in the middle of the night sobbing and angry, with no memory of the dream that created my distress. This morning, I picked up my pen and watercolors while I sat drinking coffee and coming into the day.

Sometimes where there are no words, images illuminate.

When we overlook the personal, therapeutic, and spiritual opportunities of creative expression, we may also miss parts of ourselves that cannot otherwise be known.

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.

3 comments :

  • Jim

    Lovely post, Sara. Your thoughts with their verbiage, your paintings, and the Rumi selection are beyond congruent. I’m always awed when you do that, and happy.

  • Jeff

    Sara , thank you. The Rumi poem was one of the first I copied into my own journal, dealing with loss and renewal.

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