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| Helen Haskell Remien in the Joy Center |
I was so fortunate to spend Sunday with my husband at a self-guided retreat at the Joy Center, which is an amazing place of respite created by Helen Haskell Remien. We spanned the morning through dinner time together writing, meditating and reading. We shared poems we found in the lending library and even got in a nap. The fact that we were able to spend this time together in itself is a miracle, as we have a very full family life and are both full time caregivers for two of our daughters with cerebral palsy.
I want to share with you a poem that was tucked inside another poetry book that my husband, Tim, found. Happy Monday! Happy Writing!
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 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 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.
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'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.
I'm glad you and Tim had such a peaceful day.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Ann!
DeleteI LOVE that poem! And I think that is what connects me to you and to so many other wonderful people. The ability to share oneself is, or the willingness, doesn't come easy. When it is given, it's a gift!
ReplyDeleteI know it's such a perfect poem about relationships and I am so happy to have you as my friend.
DeleteHow wonderful that you could find joyous and important time to share with your husband. I feel motivated to think of something good for me and my hubby to do together. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you can come up with something fun! And I'm glad I could motivate you to think about it :)
DeleteThis is an important line....I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
ReplyDeleteI am glad you had a good weekend with your husband.
I also love... 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.
DeleteI'm glad you and your husband found respite in what seems to be a lovely place. I've had "The Invitation" in my office for a long time--serves to remind me about what is truly important.
ReplyDeleteThank you! I am so glad that he found it. It is such a meaningful reminder of what really matters.
DeleteThat is a very beautiful poem! I think today I'm feeling quite emotional, because the poem made me more melancholic than lifting me up. It also might be because I was just going through old journals for my post tomorrow. In my youth, I was definitely delving into the deeper meaning of things. Thanks for sharing this. Glad you and your hub had a great time together. Writer’s Mark
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh, I love this poem. Gave me goose bumps to read it. Thanks for sharing and I'm glad you had such a nice retreat.
ReplyDelete