The Guest House by Rumi

The Paradigm House is six years old today!

The journey has had its highs and lows.There have been apparent losses and awareness of bitter realities. Yet there have been effective gains of knowledge and wisdom that have unveiled the paths to inner peace.

Here's my inspiration that I'd like to share with you. Hoping that this will inspire you too, and make your journey easier.

~ Shazia

The Guest House


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 are 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 whatever comes,
because each has been sent as a guide from beyond. 

Jalaluddin Rumi 
Translation By Coleman Barks
Painting by Sadaf Farasat

Soul's Reflections - The Paradigm Shift

By: Shazia Yousuf

from: http://soulsreflections.wordpress.com/2009/12/10/the-paradigm-shift/

It still feels like a dream…standing right next to ammie’s dead body. My entire self trembling, trying to accept the truth – the real truth…ammie’s gone!

I knew she would not survive, yet it was very difficult to accept this. She fought for two months in ICU against plural effusion but finally gave in. A brave woman indeed! Even the doctors admitted this. The way her body responded to so much stress was unbelievable. But she could not fight for long. Due to renal shutdown and hematoma, the doctors had given up hope. We agreed to the fact that no rigorous medical activity will be performed as it would only hurt the body and would be of no use…as the doctors would say, we would make it comfortable for her…

When the doctors informed us of this, I still had hope. Ammie would be drowsy most of the time. I would go and stand next to her, put my hand on the place where I assumed the hematoma existed and I would recite a verse that Prophet Muhammad would recite for any one who was ill. “Azhab al bas a rabbun naas a washfi anta shaafi…” I had never felt within me what I felt while I read the verses. A connection, a link, definitely something.