Postscript

A quick postscript to the last blog entry.

I awoke yesterday morning to snow in the hills in the Roaring Beach water catchment area. Across Storm Bay, the distant hills to the west looked like a wintry Colorado scene. Walking to the beach for my surf, there were white pockets of hail scattered throughout the sand dunes. Brrrrr.

Normally, I would be ecstatic over such a dramatic climatic event, with snow not seen this close to sea level in 19 years. Yet, the host in me frets over the contentment of any of my guests and I tend to worry too much over whether or not they are comfortable.

Kabir or, perhaps Rumi, would say something like:

When the guest is happy,
I am delirious with joy.
When the guest is unsettled,
my mood goes dark with anxiety.