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 dreams, 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;
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, 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 see beauty
Even when it is not pretty every day,
And if you can source your life from God's
presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure,
yours and mine,
And still stand on the edge of a 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 for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you are, how you
came 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, Indian Elder