i invite you

I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love,
for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

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 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.

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,
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 to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

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.

I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire 
with me and not shrink back.

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.

- excerpts from Oriah Mountain Dreamer's The Invitation -