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        by 
        Oriah Mountain Dreamer 
       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 
        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. 
       
        
       
        Excerpted with permission 
        from THE INVITATION. Copyright 
        (c) 1999 by Oriah Mountain 
        Dreamer. All rights reserved. 
        May not be reproduced in 
        whole or in part without 
        the permission of HarperCollins 
        Publishers, Inc., 10 E. 
        53 St., New York NY 10022 
          
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