The Invitation

Today, I have a poem for you. Jane Faulkner sent it to me and I thought I would share it…because I love its wisdom, so much so that a little over 10 years ago my husband and I spoke these words to each other in the form of our wedding vows.

I love a story, so back tracking a little, we had decided, with our 30th birthdays looming that we would sell our few possessions, save like mad and travel the world for as long as our funds would sustain us. Rash yes, but the best thing we have ever done. We had both travelled before (separately in our early 20’s), but felt the need to do so again before we became to tied down to life’s commitments (and before starting a family). We travelled through the deepest darkest corners of South East Asia, India and Nepal for over a year, before moving to Ireland to work and top up our scarce funds.

From there we continued our journey homeward bound via France, Turkey, Greece, Czech Republic and finally South America.  Planning to return home, once again broke but with our travel bug well and truly satiated, we decided in Iguazu Falls, Argentina to marry – or elope. It was just the two of us (plus a witness) and these were the words we spoke…

The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

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
to be realistic
to 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.

…and thus I married the love of my life and my very best friend.

Isn’t this such a beautiful verse? Love to hear your thoughts.

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