An Invitation
It doesn't interest me how much you have achieved or where you have been
I want to know if the fire is burning in your heart
Today is the eve of Chinese New Year. I'm sitting here working through some photos from my sister's visit a year ago. I came across this photos I took on one of our play day in the city and was inspired to check in with my heart on how am I doing in my own "passion" department.
Oriah's gentle yet unpretentious words from The Invitation came to me.
And so I too, say to you, heart to heart, join me.
Extend this invitation to our Self, look in our heart, see if we are happy with who lives there. And if not, it's time to do some de-cluttering within.
The Invitation
By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming,
from the book 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 if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
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 centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled 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 ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
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.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the 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
to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the centre 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.
