miramiramazing

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 dreams, 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,
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.

I want to know 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 live with failure, yours or mine,
and still stand on the edge of a 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 the children.
It doesn't interest me who you are, 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 have to be alone with yourself,
Can you truly like the company you keep, in the empty moments?

Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder

Off to dreamland now. Friday tomorrow. I love Fridays. Swet dreams everyone

http://www.skansen.se/pages/?ID=221

MrsP was asking me about Valborg , Walpurgis night , and I remembered that these traditional holidays are celebrated at Skansen, Stockolms large open air museum .

Skansen is the oldest open-air museum in the world, founded in 1891 . It is located on the island of Djurgården, a royal park near the centre of Stockholm and is open every day of the year, except for Christmas Eve.

30 April is Valborg .. " Valborgsmässoafton " http://www.skansen.se/pages/?ID=195"> http://www.skansen.se/pages/?ID=195

I enjoyed the opera, despite the big fat smelly man next to me who happened to get the spare free ticket that Mikael returned because nobody we knew wanted it. This man had been passing by the opera on his way to Skansen and the Valborg celebrations there when he'd heard there was free ticket going. This chap had never been to the Opera before he told me and was open to the experience. I admire him for that. I listened, smiled and made polite noises as he shared this babbling away before the lights were dimmed and the performance started. I didn't want to encourage him, after all, we were going to be stuck there for the next 5 hours.

No sooner had the opera started than I noticed he was hunched forward in his seat. The man had nodded off ! The first act is long and slow moving and there are some quiet parts so his muffled snoring was heard much to the irritation of the people in front of him who kept nudging him to wake up, which he did without protest. I was turned away trying to focus on the music in every attempt to escape the smell of a sweaty unwashed body next to me. Believe me , it is not easy, feeling guilty about my own behaviour , after all , apart from the smell he was pleasant enough.

If everything happens for a reason , why ??? why this ??? " Love what is , Mira ...it's about loving what is " the voice of my Higher Self kept telling me. So, I spent the next 5 hours trying to make the most of it and loving this gift of an experience that had been sent my way.

Manage I did , because I must admit I wasn't aware of the smell most of the time. It was only when I was not completely focused on the music that it hit my nostrils with a vengeance. It was also hot up there on the balcony. I was among the first ones out during the intermissions, and the last one back. My seat was right on the end of a row so I could stretch my legs out into the aisle.

Anyway ... the scenography was great, everyone was in good voice and the ending was blissful. The leading violinist was playing a Stradavarius too . It was well worth sitting through all the uninteresting parts and I would go and see it again .. but not just yet .....