[Note: Liz Wessel wrote such a kind essay yesterday that I decided to let it run one more day. Thank you,Liz. And thanks to all of you. - erie]
He is a lawyer, a distinguished healthcare leader, a retired CEO and an inspiration to thousands of caregivers around the world. He is a composer, a poet, an artist, photographer, prolific writer, and filmmaker. He is a Reverend, a father, grandfather, husband, dear friend, author, seeker of light, and lover of beauty. He encourages caregivers to awaken their hearts while affirming their courage to persevere and give exceptional compassionate care. He is willing to risk all for the sake of Love. Committed to social justice, he is an advocate for the most vulnerable, serving the homeless and ministering to prisoners on death row. He has known ecstasy, deep despair, and the pain of loss. His has lived a passion-filled life, complete with wisdom and foibles. He is Erie Chapman and he sees with sacred eyes.
Dear Anam Cara,
Wishing you wonderfully well on this the day of your miraculous birth! Do you hear the angels on high singing blessings of Love? This is your day to receive glad tidings and a song of praise for all that is good, may peace be with you. Namaste.
Today, we dedicate this poem to you because it reflects your essence, your radiant Light and generous spirit. With gratitude, for your thought provoking questions and unending invitation to Live, Love.
The Invitation
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 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, 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 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 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'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!”
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 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.
~By Oriah Mountain Dreamer
