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 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 and 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,
to be realistic, or to 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. I want to know if you can be faithless and
therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty
even when it is not pretty everyday, and if you can source
your life from its presence. I want to know if you can live
with failure, yours or 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, 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.
~ Author -
Oriah Mountain Dreamer ~
From Dreams of Desire, 1995 by Oriah House. All Rights Reserved.
Published by Mountain Dreaming
300 Coxwell Avenue
Box 22546
Toronto, Ontario Canada M4L 2A0
Oriah's book, The Invitation can be found at Harper Collins
Publishers
Message
from Oriah Mountain Dreamer
While I am pleased that this piece, The Invitation,
has spoken to many others and happy that it is being
shared, I would ask that you honour the original by
sharing it as it was written.
I am a teacher and writer living in Toronto with my
two teenage sons. While my family history includes
stories of Scottish, German and Native American descent
I am a Canadian woman, and not an Indian elder as
has sometimes been reported, being neither old enough
nor wise enough to claim the status of elder for any
people. I have had the priviledge of studying with
and learning from the wisdom of Native American elders
who gave me the medicine name, Mountain Dreamer. My
first book, Confessions of a Spiritual Thrillseeker,
is currently out of print. I am now working on a book
entitled The Invitation, expanding on the thoughts
and teachings held within this smaller piece. Dreams
of Desire is a small collection of poetry available
only through Mountain Dreaming.
