The Invitation
Wednesday, Dec. 08, 2004 at 10:36 A.M.
After high school, I had no real direction, and I ended up working in a hair salon. One day the ladies were oohing and ahhing over a photocopy they were passing around so I asked what the commotion was all about. One of the ladies handed me the paper and simply said, "Read this".
�Great,� I thought, �some sappy poem that I�m going to have to smile about and blech!� but as I read I found that I never wanted to set that paper down. I was speechless. So much of what I had been trying to muddle through in my own mind was starting to make sense in this poem written by Oriah somebody. Several months later when I decided to pick up and take control and start my life over in a new place, my boss at the salon gave me a card with a copy of the poem stuck inside. Still, I had no idea really who this Oriah person was that had written these words that summed up so much of what I felt. Almost two years after my move, I was walking through a bookstore, and there on the dust jacket of a small book were the familiar lines I had carried thousands of miles with me.
Last night it was my pleasure to present The Invitation in my Women Writer's Lit class, and see the wide-eyed, speechless stares, and the moment of silence after I finished reading, from these women in my class who were hearing The Invitation for the first time. It covers so much of what we have discussed in this class, and I knew there was something in it for each of my classmates. I hope there is something in it for you too.
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 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 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
be realistic
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.
� Oriah Mountain Dreamer, from the book The Invitation
bEfOrE ~ AftEr
hahaha
Gallery
www.flickr.com
More of normaltoilet's photos
hahaha
Gallery
www.flickr.com
|
wHaT dO u tHiNk ?
What is a normaltoilet?