The Invitation
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 opened to life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from the fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or our 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 faithful and therefore be 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 God’s presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and stand still 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 centre of the fire with me and not shriek 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.
