Tend to the Guest Room
I woke up this morning with a question swirling like water down a drain.
How can you receive good things if you don’t make room for them?
This has been an exceptional Virgo season for me as I’ve been listening for and reflecting deeply on new meaning and new life by way of the Virgin archetype. You can read about it in my last post.
Yesterday, in a spiritual direction session, one of the legends I work with said it’s been hard to connect with zodiac signs that have “reserved” energy. As a fellow “put it all out there” type of person, I can relate.
We discussed how Virgo, the virgin, and Aquarius, the water-bearer, are similar in that they make room. Where Aquarius makes room and holds space for emotions, or water, Virgo does so for divine incarnation bursting forth from the mundane. Putting this together gives me a new world to explore: “reserved” energy doesn’t necessarily mean shy or boring. It might mean “there’s room for something magical here.”
My mind wanders to the guest room I set up when AJ and I lived in New Jersey. Tucked in the back corner of the parsonage, it was simple: a full-size bed, a side table, a lamp. No clutter. The most quiet room in the house, I would take luxurious naps in there. I would find our brindle beast, Bella Rose, taking luxurious naps in there, too.
That room had a special energy because I tended to it weekly, even if it wasn’t going to be used. I washed the bedding and dusted the window sills. Just in case, just in case.
How can you receive good things if you don’t make room for them?
We have pieces of our lives feeling less than ideal right now. Much is beyond our control, as we’ve shifted in seismic ways to respond to the pandemic and other challenges.
I’m sure, however, each of us has areas in our lives that we fill with people, dynamics, stuff, and voluntary obligations that aren’t juicy. Sometimes the fear of empty space is scarier than mediocrity. Likewise, there are things and people we want to show up in our lives, for whom we have not prepared in any way.
How can you receive good things if you don’t make room for them?
There’s a latent fear that the guests we hope will arrive never will. We assure ourselves that disappointment and grief, instead, will fill that space. But the guest room is never a void. It is not a source of grief when it is empty: just a place for luxurious napping. “Just in case” is never for naught. There are mundane miracles to behold in “just in case.” So teaches the Blessed Virgin.
And anyway, one of life’s greatest phenomenons is that good surprises generally surpass our expectations: when what we are hoping for doesn’t arrive, something better comes in its place.
Tend to the guest room. Prepare for the knock at the door. When you answer, you will say,
“Ah, here you are. Let me show you to your room.”