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 own sorrow, 

if you have been opened by life's betrayals 

or have become shriveled and closed from fear of future 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's 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 or mine,

and still stand on the edge of the lake 

and shout to the silver of the full moon, "yes!" 

 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 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 your 

and if you truly like the company you 

keep in the empty moments.” 

THE INVITATION

Oriah Mountain Dreamer