The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer (a Native American Elder)
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 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,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals or
have become shriveled 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 ectasy
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 if you can see beauty even when 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 the bone, and do
what needs to be
done for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you are, 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.