Council for Health and Human Service Ministries

Word and Deed: Thoughts on Faith-Based Leadership

The Invitation / Your Soul Transformation

Shirley Nelson Although many people are familiar with The Invitation, a poem written by Oriah Mountain Dreamer almost a decade ago, I would speculate that most have not read the accompanying book which breaks down the poem stanza by stanza and illuminates the meaning behind the words. As lovely as it is, I sense some weariness in the poem that borders on the edge of despair. However, throughout the book there are meaningful reflections that are lovingly insightful and full of faith and hope. I find them very inspiring.

Mountain Dreamer affirms that much of life's tension revolves around the need for both solitude and community in a balance that is rich and substantive. Far too often our inner conflict is centered on the idea that we are not enough or "the litany of 'not good enough'" that picks at what is or might be, finding the imperfections real or imagined" (54). Knowing that "we are enough" produces the awareness that "there is enough: there is enough time, enough energy, enough of all that is needed" (3). And once we affirm that knowledge, we experience life more abundantly.

We are extended the invitation, says Mountain Dreamer, to "journey into a deeper intimacy with the world...without any promise of safety or guarantee of reward beyond the intrinsic value of full participation" (11). We cannot experience a deeper intimacy with the world until we obtain deeper intimacy with ourselves, and Mountain Dreamer suggests that we do this by dedicating our lives to something larger than ourselves and developing and maintaining practices to help us sustain the commitment.

She has chosen the three practices of meditation and prayer, writing, and spending time close to nature. All three of those are closely aligned with my own, but yours may be different. If you would like to choose a new practice for yourself and meditation appeals to you, The Invitation includes nine reflections. Each one is written for a different occasion and can be a place for you to start.

If you accept Oriah Mountain Dreamer's invitation, don't expect your life to be easier. Do, however, know that it will be fuller, and "more open to everything: the confusion and the insight, the excitement and the boredom, the shadow and the light . . . . By "being fully present, it allows us to give back something essential to the Sacred Mystery that sustains all life" (21-22).

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 for 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'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 and how you come 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.

As always, enjoy the journey. I hope you will create a path that is wide enough to encompass the fullness of life.

Shirley Nelson

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