The Invitation

A lot of the prose in the below "Invitation" really resonated with me, and that is why I posted it today. I liked some of her recent blog entry on intimacy too. (". . . every time I am deeply touched and surprised to rediscover what tender, vulnerable creatures we all are. Being in an intimate relationship puts the other’s tender bits in our hands, means we must be willing to allow our own vulnerability to be held by another imperfect human being.") You can find it HERE.

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 hearts 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 be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let 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 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 faithful and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even if its not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from The 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 sliver 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 and 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, Indian Elder May 1994)