I use to write poetry. Words would flow from my pen and I couldn’t stop them. My pain, excitement, my experiences would fill the pages of my journal. Then I stopped smoking pot and somehow it just didn’t come as easily. So my poetry days are behind me an I find other ways to get my feelings out. I like to call it, “Random and Odd”.<\/p>\n
During my writing phase, my newsworthy friend Bryan sent me a book. He had met this woman at a press conference recently and she gave him this book and he was so moved by it that he was certain that I would be too.
\nHe was right, except I was more than moved. I used it as a guide. Looking back I realize that I failed this poem more times than once…but at this point in my life, I see that I have found that person described…and then some.<\/p>\n
The Invitation<\/strong><\/p>\n It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. It <\/strong>doesn’t<\/strong> interest me how old you are. I want to know if you can sit with pain I want to know if you can be with joy It <\/strong>doesn’t<\/strong> interest me if the story you are telling me I want to know if you can see Beauty I want to know if you can live with failure It <\/strong>doesn’t<\/strong> interest me It <\/strong>doesn’t<\/strong> interest me who you know It <\/strong>doesn’t<\/strong> interest me where or what or with whom I want to know if you can be alone \u00a9 Oriah Mountain Dreamer, from the book The Invitation <\/em>published by HarperSanFrancisco, 1999<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I use to write poetry. Words would flow from my pen and I couldn’t stop them. My pain, excitement, my experiences would fill the pages of my journal. Then I stopped smoking pot and somehow it just didn’t come as easily. So my poetry days are behind me an I find other ways to get my feelings out. I like to call it, “Random and Odd”. During my writing phase, my newsworthy friend Bryan sent me a book. He had met this woman at a press conference recently and she gave him this book and he was so moved by it that he was certain that I would be too. He was right, except I was more than moved. I used it as a guide. Looking back I realize that I failed this poem more times than once…but at this point in my life, I see that I have found that person described…and then some. 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 centre of your own sorrow if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled 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 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 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. \u00a9 Oriah Mountain Dreamer, from the book The Invitation published by HarperSanFrancisco, 1999<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-742","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-random"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/randomandodd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/742","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/randomandodd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/randomandodd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/randomandodd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/randomandodd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=742"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/randomandodd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/742\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/randomandodd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=742"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/randomandodd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=742"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/randomandodd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=742"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nI want to know what you ache for
\nand if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nI want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
\nfor love
\nfor your dream
\nfor the adventure of being alive.<\/strong>
\n
\nIt <\/strong>doesn’t<\/strong> interest me what planets are squaring your moon…
\nI want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
\nif you have been opened by life’s betrayals
\nor have become shrivelled and closed
\nfrom fear of further pain.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nmine or your own
\nwithout moving to hide it
\nor fade it
\nor fix it.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nmine or your own
\nif you can dance with wildness
\nand let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
\nwithout cautioning us to
\nbe careful
\nbe realistic
\nremember the limitations of being human.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nis true.
\nI want to know if you can
\ndisappoint another
\nto be true to yourself.
\nIf you can bear the accusation of betrayal
\nand not betray your own soul.
\nIf you can be faithless
\nand therefore trustworthy.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\neven when it is not pretty
\nevery day.
\nAnd if you can source your own life
\nfrom its presence.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nyours and mine
\nand still stand at the edge of the lake
\nand shout to the silver of the full moon,
\n“YES!”<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n
\nto know where you live or how much money you have.
\nI want to know if you can get up
\nafter the night of grief and despair
\nweary and bruised to the bone
\nand do what needs to be done
\nto feed the children.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nor how you came to be here.
\nI want to know if you will stand
\nin the centre of the fire
\nwith me
\nand not shrink back.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nyou have studied.
\nI want to know what sustains you
\nfrom the inside
\nwhen all else falls away.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nwith yourself
\nand if you truly like the company you keep
\nin the empty moments.<\/strong><\/p>\n