by
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest
me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you
ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s
longing.
It doesn’t interest
me how old you are.
I want to know if you will
risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being
alive.
It doesn’t interest
me what planets are squaring
your moon...
I want to know if you have
touched the centre of your
own sorrow if you have been
opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled
and closed from fear of
further pain.
I want to know if you can
sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
I want to know if you can
be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill
you to the tips of your
fingers and toes without
cautioning us to be careful
be realistic remember the
limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest
me if the story you are
telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation
of betrayal
and not betray your own
soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can
see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your
own life
from its presence.
I want to know if you can
live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge
of the lake
and shout to the silver
of the full moon,
“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest
me
to know where you live or
how much money you have.
I want to know if you can
get up
after the night of grief
and despair
weary and bruised to the
bone
and do what needs to be
done
to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest
me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will
stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest
me where or what or with
whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains
you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can
be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the
company you keep
in the empty moments.
Excerpted with permission
from THE INVITATION. Copyright
(c) 1999 by Oriah Mountain
Dreamer. All rights reserved.
May not be reproduced in
whole or in part without
the permission of HarperCollins
Publishers, Inc., 10 E.
53 St., New York NY 10022
|