The Invitation

I don't often repost full length pieces of other's writing, but I was riffling through my old cards the other day- and this poem my grandmother shared a few years back struck me and spoke to my current thoughts on life in an age where 'what you do' is thought to be equivalent to 'who you are.'

The Invitation

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 you will risk
looking lik a fool for love,
for your dreams,
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 center of your own sorrow,
of you have been opened
by life's betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed
from fear of further pain!

I want to know 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,
or to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story
you're 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.

I want to know if you can be faithful
and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know you cans see beauty
even it is not pretty every day,
and if you can source your life
from God's presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure,
yours and mine,
and still stand on the edge of a 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 be bone
and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are
or how you came to be here.

I want to know if you will stand
in the center 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.

-- Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Native American Elder