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 mehow old you are.I want to knowif you will risklooking like a foolfor lovefor your dreamfor the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets aresquaring your moon…I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrowif you have been opened by life’s betrayalsor have become shriveled and closedfrom fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with painmine or your ownwithout moving to hide itor fade itor fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joymine or your ownif you can dance with wildnessand let the ecstasy fill youto the tips of your fingers and toeswithout cautioning usto be carefulto be realisticto 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 anotherto be true to yourself.If you can bearthe accusation of betrayaland not betray your own soul.If you can be faithlessand therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beautyeven when it is not prettyevery day.And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failureyours and mineand still stand at the edge of the lakeand shout to the silver of the full moon,“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest meto know where you liveor how much money you have.I want to know if you can get upafter the night of grief and despairweary and bruised to the boneand do what needs to be doneto feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you knowor how you came to be here.I want to know if you will standin the centre of the firewith meand not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whomyou have studied.I want to knowwhat sustains youfrom the insidewhen all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alonewith yourselfand if you truly like the company you keepin the empty moments.
By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming, from the book The Invitation published by HarperONE, San Francisco, 1999.
The first time I read this poem from the book Spiritual Intelligence: The Ultimate Intelligence by Danah Zohar & Ian Marshall in the 2000s. Since then I have often found this poem in various media, also from a friend in Tsu (a platform similar to Virily) who knew the poet directly. For me, this poem is very extraordinary.
Have you ever read this poem before?
Do you get something interesting or impressive in this poem?