No doubt the newsletter stayed with me because I was in a relationship that I knew was ending and probably should never have been anyway. I often think that people are attracted to you because of your light, your brightness, your joy of being alive. You shine with something they want but don’t have. They mirror you and for a moment you are a perfect match. They love what you love and have the same zest for life. But, it doesn’t last—it can’t last—because it isn’t who they are and slowly they wear down, can’t keep up the pace, can’t hold the light and respond with same spontaneity to life. They begin to resent you because the truth is that they didn’t really want you they wanted to be you –to have what you have. It all gets confusing and leaves you wondering what happened or what could you have done differently. Sometimes you even begin to change yourself before you realize that you both are at opposite ends of the spectrum. So as my relationship was ending I was struck by the hopefulness of hearing about a life that was just beginning to take form.
As I write I am reminded of a poem by Rumi titled A Guest House and I thought if I was granted one wish, one desire, one prayer on this night for all of us it is that we find the courage to open our heart to welcome each day as a guest and watch with nonjudgmental wonder at whatever it brings.
This being human is a guesthouse.
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 . . .
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
The Essential Rumi, versions by Coleman Barks