What does poetry have to do with personal or professional change?
Sometimes, everything. If you’re not so sure, just spend a few minutes reading this post.
Rumi was born in 1207 in Afghanistan, at the time a part of the Persian empire. His poem The Guest House holds many important lessons for us in life, and in change. Below is the poem, followed by the lessons it calls out for me.
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 crowded with 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.
These are my lessons when I read this today. You may see them, or not. You may see others.
- Don’t be surprised by the surprises; life is full of them.
- Sometimes we may see those things we are facing as positive, sometimes as negative. Each has its purpose.
- “When one door closes, another opens.”
- Sometimes, change demands that we let go of things–“furniture,” “baggage,”–in order for us to move forward.
- Don’t live as a victim of history, but embrace the uncertainty of the future. Live boldly into it.
- Change is hard; big change is harder.
- Both how we think and how we behave are important.
- Things happen that we don’t understand; accept them. We don’t need to understand why they happen to understand the lessons that they have to offer.
- Be graceful and act with integrity, whatever the circumstances we face.
Do these lessons from The Guest House resonate? Are there others that call out to you? Are there other poems that offer you change guidance? Comment below.
Our beliefs are our truths. They are the way things are. They are “facts,” often taken for granted. Much like those truths in the Declaration of Independence, we hold our truths to be “self-evident.” They are unquestioned. They are what we believe. They are Truth (with a capital T).
For the most part, our habits are more visible to others than they are to ourselves. They are, by definition, “routine.” We don’t think about them before we do them; we aren’t aware that we are doing them; and too often we don’t notice that we have done them. Others may anticipate them… “This is when she always turns her notepad over and looks with disdain across her desk.” They certainly recognize them… “Here he goes again. One. Two. Three. Beet red and now the fist pounds the table.” But, for the most part it is only afterwards that we think, “I need to stop doing that,” if we even know that we just did it.
We act like there is work, and there is our other (some call it our “real”) life. In this scenario, events that occur in one have nothing to do with the other. The reality, however, is very different.
We all have limitations. We may not know what they are. Or, we may not want to admit them. We may imagine them as more impermeable than pushing up against would reveal. Nonetheless, they are there.
people seem to be able to move across the country into a new job with a new employer, and to do so with relative ease. For others, moving the coffee pot in the break room leads to weeks of consternation, frustration, and lost productivity. Most people fall somewhere in between. And, even those who move through most changes with apparent ease do find change difficult at times. So why are some changes so difficult?