Rumi and The Flat Pack

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 be a group of sorrows,
Who violently sweep your house
Empty of furniture
Still treat each guest honourably,
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.         (The Essential Rumi. Translation by Coleman Barks)
 
 
There was a knock at my door, I was awaiting delivery of my new desk, the place I would write my stories, it was due before nine am. The smell of Saturday mornings Bacon and eggs filled the air.  I answered the door cup of tea in hand…. It wasn’t my desk but Enthusiasm who bounded in upsetting my tea. He must have been sculling shots of espresso because he was bouncing all over the place… he’d heard about my creative hub and was eager to lend a hand.

Nine am, ten am, eleven am… After three hours, Enthusiasm packed up and left passing Impatience on her way in… she paced the kitchen for an hour and then exclaimed that she couldn’t wait around all day…

Finally, at one pm the delivery van arrived with Surprise. We were expecting a large grand desk, one befitting the masterpieces awaiting to be written -not a flat box!  I must have left the front door open, for as I opened the box and found the instructions and an allen key, Frustration strode in. He even kicked the box when we saw that English was not the first language of whoever wrote the instructions..

Just then Hope floated in… and Enthusiasm came back. “I think we can do this” said Hope, “We can do this” affirmed Enthusiasm.… A slots into B, affix b to c, then screw to d. It was going together beautifully till Frustration could not find piece F. Hope said “it must be here somewhere” and Enthusiasm searched and searched, but F was missing.

Enthusiasm and Hope fled as Frustration kicked the box again… Pessimism wandered in to see how the project was going. “I knew it wouldn’t be built…it’s hopeless” he lamented.

Then Steely Determination rocked up like a super hero, he had tools and he knew how to use them. None of the other pieces of the desk were coded but Steely Determination said it was just a matter of trial and error and Patience…who was a late arrival.

By 6 pm Steely Determination was done…. Oh, the desk was still in pieces but Steely packed up his tools and admitted Defeat… Defeat just looked at the desk and said “what’s the point, you probably would not have written anything anyway” Pessimism nodded half-heartedly in agreement. Frustration kicked the box again and again and…. 

Bang bang bang at the door- “Oh god its Anger…. Don’t let him in” said Worry who’d crept in the back door… “He always causes a scene…what will the neighbours say? Let’s just pretend we’re not here and maybe he’ll go away” Anger banged and yelled for a good hour well, an awful hour really.
Then all was quiet…. I gazed at my unfinished desk… there was a soft slow knock and a crowd of Sorrows shuffled in, they bought chocolate, tissues and a DVD Beaches. They moved all the furniture and crowded into the lounge room.  We ate chocolate, watched the movie, sang “You are the wind beneath my wings” and cried.

In the morning I wandered groggily to the kitchen for my cup of tea but the houseful of Sorrows had drunk it all. I really need my morning tea, I turned to yell at the Sorrows kicking my toe on the half-finished desk as Anger pounded on the door again…. The crowd of Sorrows were still sighing in the lounge room as Anger burst in the front door ranting and raving. I threw open the back door “here’s your hat, what’s the hurry” and shuffled him straight to the back door… but Anger was having none of it.  Anger pushed his way into the lounge room and you’ve never seen a cluster of Sorrows scatter so swiftly. Again, I motioned to the backdoor and said “here’s your hat, thanks for dropping by…”

THWACK! Anger picked up a pillow and hit me, thwack! That’s was it, I snapped! Dish towel in hand and I snapped at Anger, Thwack snap thwack snap like a sword fight thwack snap thwack snap all over the house, no quarter giver no quarter taken, up the stairs, thwack snap, down the stairs, it descended into an ugly undignified brawl, gouging, pinching, biting, till we both fell exhausted on the lounge…

And that’s where Joy found us… and we laughed and laughed and laughed.

Then Calm strolled in with a book of poetry, an allen key and F, the missing piece of desk. And he read,

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 be a crowd of Sorrows, a crush of Worries, a bench of Judgements, a melee of Chaos, a fright of Fears, a disgust of Dissatisfactions,
​or a pomposity of Arrogance
Don’t open the front door just to push them out the back door
Serve them tea and cake,
Wear party hats
Play games and listen lightly to their concerns
be grateful for whoever comes
Because each has been sent
As a guide from beyond.

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After I wrote Rumi and the Flat Pack, I began experiencing more of those "momentary awarenesses". The very next day, dealings with the Immigration Department soured my mood. As I stopped to contemplate my feelings, I saw a crowd of little cartoon figures, their hair standing on end, all waving their hands in the air, they were a collective of Chaos. A door to my solar plexus then opened wide and the melee of Chaos ran in, straight onto my see saw (teeter totter) of equilibrium. One end to other they ran, up and down, up and down. I laughed and watched their antics... soon they ran out of puff and dispersed.

I  happened to tell a friend, who had heard my story, about my meeting with the melee of Chaos. She decided that would try to welcome her Depression but she said she would open the back door first, so Depression would not stay long. And that's when I realised, on the spiritual path we are told to accept our feeling, and we try, but our reason for accepting them is to get rid of them asap! We treat them like the unwanted, inappropriate house guest. We don't really welcome them, we certainly don't entertain them, we put up with them, throw tea and cake at them, to get them back out the door expediently. So that's when I added to the story  "I threw open the back door 'here’s your hat, what’s the hurry' and shuffled Anger straight to the back door… but Anger was having none of it.  Anger pushed his way into the lounge room and you’ve never seen a cluster of Sorrows scatter so swiftly. Again, I motioned to the backdoor and said 'here’s your hat, thanks for dropping by'…”  I Know I have never truly welcomed Anger with the view to an extended stay.

Yes, my melee of Chaos disappeared after I entertained them (Or they entertained me), but if my intention was purely to get rid of the feeling asap then doubtless, they would still be running up and down, upsetting my see saw of equilibrium.(stubborn little buggers) For the first time I truly welcomed uncomfortable feelings and I would have been fine even if they hung around longer. 

Since then, all my feelings have taken on personas. Frequent guests are, Mr Arrogance, he is an English gentleman in a suit, bowler hat, monocle with a long pointy nose. Mrs Impatience, also an upper class person who expects and demand that everything be done her way on her schedule. There Insecurity, a lonely little girl, in a ratty tee-shirt with "please Like Me" emblazoned on the front and Frustration is a tattooed biker without his bike. Miss Resentment is a beauty queen with a crown, septre and sash, while her cousin, clutching an academy award is Ms Martyr. 

I am opening the door and welcoming them all. I invite then to sit in the best comfy recliner and put their feet up, I serve then tea or beer and we talk, play, wrestle and wear party hats. There is no time limit on their stay. 

Do I like them all? No, but I am developing an affection, empathy and gratitude for each and everyone. 

This being human is a guest house...

Lindy Mitchell-Nilsson
www.hearttoheartstorytelling.com