Archive for March, 2018

“We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” 

Winston Churchill

Pass It On

Have you had a kindness shown?

Pass it on.

It was not meant for you alone

Pass it on.

Let it travel down through the years

Let it wipe another’s tears

Until across the world the deed appears

Pass it on.

Have you found within a precious treasure?

Pass it on.

Has it given you fulfillment and pleasure?

Pass it on.

For your heart grows rich in giving

Loving is the truest living

Letting go is twice possessing

Pass it on.

Have you found your pure white light?

Pass it on.

Mankind is groping in the night

Daylight is gone

So, hold your lighted candle high

Like a guiding star in someone’s sky

So he may live who else would die

Pass it on.


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The Invitation

By Oriah

 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 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 a 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 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,

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.

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