...don�t try to figure out my experience � there�s no method to my madness...
THE INVITATIONOriah Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder
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 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 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 a night Of grief and despair Weary and bruised to the bone To 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.
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"Seven" - 2005-04-11, 4:44 p.m. Yesterday I got into the most refreshing conversation. I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom folding clothes and going through stuff, attempting to clean the space also known as my bedroom. As the sound of my fan, the wind blowing in the window and Phil Collins filled up my space; I picked up my cellphone and called a good friend of mine that now lives in California. I just had the urge to get in touch with him; I guess his cypher was speaking to me in my organized chaos. Well, I picked up the phone and called and his answer was completely hysterical to me. "You know I'm mad at you, right?" he said jokingly. I was like "WHY?" His response was that he had been trying to call me for the last two weeks and kept getting an "all networks are busy" signal. I told him he needs to invest in a better cellphone. We laughed and laughed for what seemed like hours and then went into an awesome conversation that made the sadness of Ral's departure a little bit easier to bear. Now Seven (his real name is Sean, but I've gotten so used to calling him his pen name, it's just stuck) and I have known each other for a couple of years; he entered the Hampton Roads poetry scene by storm one night at Fuzzy Wednesdays and we've been friends ever since. I'll never forget the first night we met - it was the end of the night and I was ready to leave. This cat came up to me and was like "You can't go. This is the first night that I'm going on stage and I really want you to hear my piece." I reconsidered and decided to stick around. I really was motivated to go home, but it was what it was so I stayed around. It was to the point where the venue had pretty much so cleared out; there were a couple of faces around the spot but compared to earlier in the night, most people had jetted to prepare for work the next morning. Well, Seven finally got onstage and let me tell you! The piece he did was like this universal dedication to Fuzzy Wednesdays. It was the first time that anyone had ever given me a shoutout in a poem. The whole moment was heartwarming and refreshing. I was truly touched. From that point, we have just turned into amazing friends. (There was a point where I wanted to date him, but that went from a want to the main subject of a REALLY good spoken word piece - I'll explain later) Seven is one of those people that you can say something to and he always has something funny to say back. When we talk, our humor crosses from the driest of dry to insanely goofy. And the conversations always run into each other. As much as we say "Okay, we both have stuff to accomplish so we have to cut this conversation short," we still end up talking for hours at a time. The conversation last night started as listed above, then moved towards talking about a collaboration piece that he wants to do together for his next CD. It's crazy because the collaboration is already done - a long time ago at Fuzzy Wednesdays I wrote him a poem - that was more or less a proposition for us to go out on a date. I can't remember what I wrote it on or how the subject came up in the first place - I think he had written an inscription in a poetry book that I had purchased from him and it provoked me to write what I did - yeah, that's it. Well, his response is what started the collaboration. It's amazing what inspires people, ya know? Well, we were talking about that - how we would set up the piece for recording and how everything will flow. Between talking about business, we chatted about my new "equipment" and how it's taken 5 years off of my age. We talked about the National Slam this year and how wonderful it's going to be. Then, of course with talking about Slam, we talked about the Hampton Roads Slam scene and how much it sucks because of people and "the egos they have that can't fill the venues they perform in." It's crazy. We talked about life; how being broke SUCKS and recent days have reminded me of my freshman year of college and creating meals out of Ramen Noodles. About better jobs and moving on. Of course, in order to cover Seven's superhero poetry status, his daily life is lived out as an officer in the Navy (so Seven's not broke LOL). It's just refreshing to talk to someone that you share so much in common with. When I'm stressed, it makes me feel so much better than I did in moments before it. I feel that way when Ral and I talk sometimes, but as of late he's been catching a lot my stress venting. This past weekend was a hard moment in our relationship - I'm hoping that we recover from it, I'm sure that we will. I love him so much. But talking to Seven made me remember the passion that I used to live my life with; the feeling that everything that was a part of my being had to be protected and anything that I could use to enhance those aspects of my element had to be exhausted and praised to the ends of the Earth. I want to live like that again. I want to feel like that again. I want to forget the corporate concentration that my life has turned into and love life the way that I used to. I praise the growth that has made me who I am today, but I regret some of the things that have gone away from me that were reminders of my youth - reminders of the girl that I loved - reminders of what was once naive, but is now educated by the realities of life. The part of me that left with marriage... and struggle... and turning 25. Seven reminded me of that person. I'm really glad he's my friend. -Blessings
In memory - 2006-09-06 all content copyright its-a-newday 2005 |
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