The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

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, 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's not pretty, everyday.

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 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.