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 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 see beauty, even when it’s not poetry,
everyday, and if you can source your own life from its presence.
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 ( from ‘The Invitation’ )