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 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 whomever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
So let us pick up
the stones over which we stumble,
friends, and build altars...
Let us name the harsh light and
soft darkness that surround us.
Let's claw ourselves out from the graves we've dug.
Let's lick the earth from our fingers.
Let us look up and out and around.
The world is big and wide and wild and wonderful and wicked,
and
our lives are murky, magnificent, malleable, and full of meaning.
Oremus.
Let us pray.
the stones over which we stumble,
friends, and build altars...
Let us name the harsh light and
soft darkness that surround us.
Let's claw ourselves out from the graves we've dug.
Let's lick the earth from our fingers.
Let us look up and out and around.
The world is big and wide and wild and wonderful and wicked,
and
our lives are murky, magnificent, malleable, and full of meaning.
Oremus.
Let us pray.