Welcome everything — again and again

How many times have you heard or read that happiness resides within the heart, right where I-me-mine give way to true nature? Over the years I’ve said as much to hundreds of students — and to myself. Obstacles are not blocking the path: they are the path. Face them, greet them, and welcome them.

Today this borrowed knowledge has come to bite me. I simply can’t – or won’t — open to what ails me. The mind won’t be calmed, the body won’t sit still, the dark gates won’t budge. Some days are like that.

Looking for words of encouragement, I open the poetry of Rumi [1], Across the span of 800 years he points the way —

Welcome difficulty.

Learn the alchemy True Human Beings know:
the moment you accept what troubles
you’ve been given, the door opens.

Welcome difficulty as a familiar comrade.
Joke with torment brought by a Friend.

Sorrows are the rags of old clothes
and jackets that serve to cover,
and then are taken off.

That undressing,
and the beautiful naked body underneath,
is the sweetness that comes after grief.

Sounds familiar? More from Buddhist teacher Frank Ostaseski [2] —

In welcoming everything, we don’t have to like what arises. It’s actually not our job to approve or disapprove. The word welcome confronts us; it asks us to temporarily suspend our usual rush to judgement and to simply be open to what is happening. Our task is to give our careful attention to what is showing up at our front door. To receive it in the spirit of hospitality. . . .

When we are open and receptive, we have options. We are free to discover, to investigate, and to learn how to respond skillfully to anything we encounter. We can’t be free if we are rejecting any part of our lives. With welcoming comes an ability to meet and work with both pleasant and unpleasant circumstances.

Onward. The instructions are clear. Breathe long and deep. Inbreath — outbreath. Repeat. Let go of clever talk, open to the unknown . . .

[1] Barks, Coleman & Michael Green. (1997). The illuminated Rumi. Broadway Books, p. 77.
[2] Ostaseski, Frank. (2017). The five invitations. Discovering what death can teach us about living fully. Flatiron Books, p. 74.