By Jane Coburn
(My friend Jane has a fresh and wise perspective on mindfulness, mothering, and welcoming Life. I asked her if I could post this. She said, Yes--something she's been saying in many contexts lately!)
“This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival…be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond”
(My friend Jane has a fresh and wise perspective on mindfulness, mothering, and welcoming Life. I asked her if I could post this. She said, Yes--something she's been saying in many contexts lately!)
“This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival…be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond”
Reading The Guest House by Rumi for the hundredth
time and it still gets me. It still
strikes me right in the face how this being human is so temporary - an honor
and a blessing. Thoughts and feelings
visit briefly if we pay attention to them…real, honest attention to why they
are here. If not, they linger and
fester.
Before I started meditating, I thought it would be
impossible to stop thinking and just be still.
Like most Americans and every mother I know, I spent my life as a
whirling dervish multitasking my way through the day. If I was not actively doing something, I felt
lazy, bored, or guilt ridden about what I SHOULD be doing. If I did try to relax, my mind missed the
memo and kept running. I thought
meditating meant you could not have a thought. If your mind was not completely
clear then you were doing it wrong. So,
I didn’t try often and when I did try, I gave up quickly when thoughts arose as
they always did. It turned my attempts
at meditation into failure giving my guest house yet another visit from guilt
and frustration.
I watched or heard of others meditating and I was distrustful. Meditation seemed silly or self righteous and
I never truly believed these people weren’t faking it. I began searching spiritually, as I suspect
most mid-lifers do and I started reading about Buddhism and other Eastern
spiritual practices. Later I was
overjoyed to find teachings about the Christian tradition of meditation, a much
overlooked part of our history. These writings spoke to me and I realized that
the thoughts that arise while trying to quiet my mind are simply thoughts. I can see them, I can reflect on them or let
them pass. As Rumi said, I have begun to
learn how to welcome them as guides.
When meditating, I feel safe to notice a thought and ask myself, “Why am
I having this thought? What does this
say about me?”
In time, I have learned that meditation is not just
something you do in quiet or on a mountain top.
My meditation practice is helping me pause at any given moment and
welcome a feeling, experience it for a few moments, be truly honest with myself
about what that feeling is saying about me and then with some deep breaths I
can let it go. A friend of mine told me
he thought meditation was too passive and not helpful in dealing with his
problems. In my experience, meditation
has been quite an active way to welcome my feelings and reactions to life,
pause, be still and listen helping me to learn and adjust my emotions or
behaviors based on what these guests teach me.
It is not easy to be honest with oneself. Realizing that when I snapped at my child out
of anger or frustration it was really about my own fears and feelings of
inadequacy can be a tough lesson to
welcome. Those feelings or thoughts may return to my guest house in an hour, a
day, or a week, but they are often quieter and have a shorter stay. The more I pause and practice, the fewer and
farther between the visits and my mind is opened up and empty, ready for more
guests.
