Lent 2014 – 17: Running Out of Steam

Okay, I know that some people may be thinking, what kind of writer are you if you can’t even write for forty days without running out of things to write about?  But, I have news for you, writing doesn’t work like that.  I mean, it does, but it doesn’t.  I know that every great writer will say that if you want to be a writer, you have to write every day.  I think that’s true, however, you don’t normally show people what you write every day.  Many times I will have a day of inspiration, some times a week, but rarely a month.  So tonight, while my words elude me, please enjoy some Rumi instead.

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.


Until tomorrow…..

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