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Saturday, March 14, 2009, 6:55 PM
This is a poem that I find suits me when it come to meeting new people and getting to know one another. It speak to the soul of the person.
Invitation - Written by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
(Native American Elder)
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
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.
Sunday, October 12, 2008, 10:33 AM
It is Sunday and I'm staying at home. My daughter n law and grandsone have left for Church. I'm here today. Here because my physcial body is not where it should be. However my soul and my spirit is alway connected to the Holy Spirit and I am right now as I write feeling prayers in my spirit. I can hear myself saying prayers as I write. I can hear them inside of myself.
And it is not the medication, either. . Today is Unity Day at our church and that particular service really does begin until this afternoon. Everyone is suppose to wear Royal Blue and Black, why I do not know, something they made up. I really wish that organized religon would stop making things up .
However I am going next door, maybe I can bring some joy to my fireind, maybe my spirit will over flow and come thu me and touch her and fill her even for a momemt. I pray her soul emptys even for a momemt that she is touched with the joy of luaghter and happiness even for a moment. When she smiles I always feel that the Lord has just entered the roo
Sunday, October 12, 2008, 10:21 AM
Tuesday, September 23, 2008, 11:02 AM
Sometimes or every now and then in our lives,we come into a time when there is nothing left for us to do but cry. It is a time when we put on that t-shirt because of either our circumstances or a particular situration. This was one of those times in my life. The words are all caught up inside of you. and you want to get them out but my dryness keep them inside.It is after the Prayer, it is after the praying, It is when the Amen is said.It is in the Prayer and the praying.It is when the thoughts can not be quite, It is when, it all builds up inside. That is when the drowning begins.That is when the hurt floods begin.That, breaks the bank of the eyes and reaches inside and pulls out more than what can be contained.It is that hurt that is unspeakable; it is the hurt that has no words. It is a sorrow, a death, a loss, a disappointment, that will not be explained.It is the wall crumbling, it is you falling, it is eyes blinded by the waters of the soul.It is the river of tears.And there is no stopping the flooding, it pours and pours rushing down your cheeks like a river in a rain storm.And all the trying in the world will not cease this river of tears.And you swallow trying to captures yourself to keep from drowning in the waters that flow.And still they flow, flow downward across your cheeks under your chin. And the more you wipe them away, more come to replace them. And there is nothing you can do to stop the flood.You might try breathing so you don't fall under the water and really, really drown, but somehow you don't care and you wish you could just drown at that moment of time.And even in the breaths that you take, the tears overpower and they increase in strength.Minutes, hours past by, there is no time for this time. There is only the tears that engulf and over run and take control of your eyes and your mind.There is no real, no unreal, there is only tears, only the pain, the hurt, the flooding, the tearing, the pulling that keeps on coming.You are exhausted, you are tired. You become still and yet the stillness is like the eye of the storm to come.Like that of the hurricane it comes hard pushing upward and outward of you harder than before, stronger than ever and you let it, you just let it.For now you must drown.