This evening, after experiencing a holiday who-ha, I am very aware of my crave… no my need for deeper intimacy in all of my experiences… I am humored at this choice of need fulfillment as I spent the majority of my time in a corner room with the palm reader, in a one hour +  discussion and equal exchange that stemmed from the heart-line of my hand. JUICY.

Now, home…  reminded of Oriah’s poem–birthed of a similar experience:  At a party and craving truth in conversation, connection, some real-ness, something I can sink my teeth into. Something that calls me deeper into the caverns of myself.

The first time I read The Invitation, was on the wall of The Center for Creative Exploration, the first process painting studio I discovered 10 years ago in San Francisco.  Every time I read it, is like the first time…a tear is born, as I am gently reminded of home.

So go ahead…sink your teeth:

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 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 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 the 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 wan 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’s 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 on the edge of the lake and shout at the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn’t interest me 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 are or how you can 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.

- Oriah Mountain Dreamer