Poets make us pay attention to our guides
This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival.
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
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.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
–Rumi
It is hard to imagine that mass murder, as yesterday at Virginia Tech, is providing us a guide that we should welcome in. But perhaps it is. Perhaps it must, in order to make any shred of sense. On days like these, we reach for our families and friends and loved ones, don’t we?, a reach that reminds me of these words by a favorite writer:
"If I knew that today would be the last time I’d see you, I would hug you tight and pray the Lord be the keeper of your soul. If I knew that this would be the last time you pass through this door, I’d embrace you, kiss you, and call you back for one more. If I knew that this would be the last time I would hear your voice, I’d take hold of each word to be able to hear it over and over again. If I knew this is the last time I see you, I’d tell you I love you, and would not just assume foolishly you know it already." –Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Reach, hug, tell.
