Illuminations & Inspirations
by Courtney Dutch
I would like to share a poem I came across about 21 years ago during my first yoga teacher training. It is one that I often share during my yoga classes. These passages have been relevant at various stages of my yoga journey.
Yoga and this poem came into my life at the same time, both have been invaluable tools. The practice of yoga and the reflections within this poem connect us to our truths.
Before or after you practice yoga, reflect on each passage, then consider the questions. Read it again from time to time to discover what passage stands out, gives you strength, or inspiration. Keep in mind that the actual poem is a little different, but this is the version I first came across and love. It is paraphrased.
The Invitation
It doesn't matter to me what you do for a living, I want to know what your hopes are 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 dreams, or for the adventure of being alive.
It does not 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 your own pain, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, and dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning yourself to be careful, be realistic, or 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 faithful 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 beauty’s presence.
I want to know if you can live with your failure, 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 a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done for your family.
It does not 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 those you love and not shrink back.
It does not 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. If you can be alone with yourself and if you genuinely like the company, you keep in the empty moments.