I turned 38 years old exactly one week ago. I suppose starting a blog a week after my birthday isn’t exactly auspicious, but this isn’t about being poetic. There are so many changes happening in my life right now – some anticipated, some completely out of the blue – that it seemed appropriate to document where I am now in relation to where I will be… sometime in the future. There’s no time limit on this, I suppose.
Changes are happening left and right after a period of status quo, all things normal, nothing really devastating or amazing happening, everything moving along just as it had been. It felt… comfortable. And all the time my soul was screaming. Because while I absolutely believe that “comfort” can be something to aspire to, I also believe it can mean “stagnation.” And I have been dangerously close to sinking into a state of stagnation.
So, change. It is happening, and I will admit, I am not doing a very good job of embracing it. Circumstances are dragging me kicking and screaming out of comfort into action. Rather than stamp my feet and throw a temper tantrum about it, I have decided to make a daily practice of cultivating wonder and amazement. Delight.
There is a poem by Jalal ad-Dīn Muhammad Rumi, my favorite 13th century Persian mystic, called “The Guest House” that is the inspiration for the title of this blog and this personal project. (Check out the sidebar for the whole poem.) This brave act of being human means that there will always be the unexpected, the devastating, the joyful, the heartbreaking, and the ecstatic moments. Every breath brings change and exchange. This last year or so, I have turned away from it. This year… I want to embrace and breathe it in.
For the forseeable future, I commit to finding things that delight me, fill me with hope, or otherwise invite change into my life that is a blessing — no matter how small. I will attempt to share these things with you here – and perhaps it will inspire some delight in your own guest house.
A little more wonder and amazement in the world certainly can’t hurt, right?