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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 hearts 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
with 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 been shriveled and closed from
the 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 or
your own; if you can dance with wildness and let
ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers 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're 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.
I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore
trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it
is not pretty every day, and if you can live with
failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the
edge of a lake and shout to the sliver of a 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 where or what or with whom
you studied. I want to know what sustains you from
the in side when all else fades away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself,
and if you truly like the company you keep.
Oriah
Mountain Dreamer
(Native American Elder) |
