About to lead a workshop this afternoon, the first of a two-consecutive-Sundays introduction to Compassionate Nonviolent Communication. These three hour sessions lift and drain me. Someone often comes up and says "You changed my life"; I demur: the work is Marshall Rosenberg's.

Been teaching this for a decade or so, and one thing I can count on is a raving blowout with somebody a day or so before. As if the Universe is shaking me by the collar, allowing the 'expert' persona to fall away, so I can be "at home in the muddy waters, accepting life as it is".

Let go of having answers, let go of being perfect, let go of performing... and at the same time introduce these ideas, with clarity and ease- so the group can experience the effect of the process. One woman decided to come after I agreed that she would not have to utter one word.

This Rumi poem reminds of my intention.

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'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 whoever comes,

Because each has been sent

As a guide from beyond.