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 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
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 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.
Photo by .SantiMB. on Flickr
4 comments:
Patti, what literature you share. Such beauty, such delight. I am happy with my cardiologist for he has literature in his bones. He can combine the arts and the scientific; and that makes the difference in the world. When I was then at Phil. Heart Center as I shared the prep room with a girl who has gone berserk; ( I couldn’t stand her madness) what I did was gather all my bedsheets and made a tent. My cardiologist arrived and was searching for me and took a peek-a-boo and laughed at what I did. Told him, “either you transfer me to another room or I will be like her before the surgery.” Sometimes, towards the end of the 1900 while confined at Makati Med, a female cardiologist resident paid me a visit and asked me “ano po ang problema ninyo”.And I laughed so hard that the resident left. My cardiologist came “ano na naman ang ginawa mo, tinakot mo na naman ang resident?” I told him that she asked me what is my problem and I almost quipped, “problema ko? basically pera but there are others like my bed is old….”(of course I knew what she was referring too). Nursing is very rich in text and literature; for without such point of view reality is always harsh. Literature gives reason, rhyme and music to life; and makes living easy. Especially mine.
Dear Pattie and Friends,
Can I post a picture of our class gimiks via our website? I am seeking your permission first Pattie. Just a photo at a time. And if you are still up to your video making or our class gigs, I am submitting them to you. Marami pong Salamat.
I'm glad you enjoyed that, Julie. This poem is one of my all time favorites. A friend from work shared it with me years ago and it has stayed with me since.
Oh please share photos. This is why we have our blog. Sige na.
I love this! Thanks for posting it, Patti. These profound words are what I've always tried to live by.
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