Another new post. Yes, I guess lots going through my mind today…
Mentoring in a bit. Feel like I don’t have much to offer today though…

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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 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 further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own,
without moving to hide or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine your own:
if you can dance with the wildness and let the ecstasy
fill you to the finger and toes without cautioning us
to be careful, be realistic, or 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 others to be true to
yourself: if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and
not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can be faithless
and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see the beauty even when it
is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life
from Its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure,
yours and 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 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 for the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you are,
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 yourself,
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

I just started reading her book, The Dance….
I like what I’ve read so far and “The Invitation” has got to be one of my favorite poems. It’s yummy and real.

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The Real Work

It may be that when we no longer know what to do we have come to our real work.
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.

-Wendel Berry

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So many interesting thoughts and ideas, imaginations at work creating sweet vast wicked worlds.
Ideas tumbling through our minds and brightening our dreamscapes.
Yet we don’t discuss it and we walk blindly ignoring the secrets, ideas, and dreams that we all want to share.
And we sleep in our cocoons and work our lives away while our insides melt and fade away.

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Trying to stay calm
amidst the rubble around me
and inside me.
The path that I leave behind me.
Embraced by it
Sucked inside
the swirling energy
that makes my hands shake
and presses at my chest
until I can barely breathe.
Decisions dance around me
and laugh in my face.
And the faces of people
become blurry and dark
as I scrutizine the walls between us.
Security and time
implode into a small black hole
that can suck it all up.
If I let it.

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