get to know me and how this thing called writing is life.
#1: see me
the ability of the written word to transport the reader immediately is indeed a powerful vessel. the spark of an idea can happen in an instance with one sentence from an author whose message adheres itself on a cellular level, deeply impacting and changing the way the reader views people and the world around them. as a writer, i can only hope your passage with me is just as transformative. so from where i am to exactly where you are, i have a story i wish to share with you … one that cultivates ideas to empower a person for change.
on this site you will find previews from my books along with trailers, goodies and an occasional pondering. if you have any questions, drop me a line. if you wish to chat, start the discussion. if you want to change the world starting with your own life, pick up the hoe, get rid of the weeds, turn over the soil, and plant the seed. with some patience, attentiveness and a bit of pruning watch it—over time—blossom into the very thing you imagined.
love this . . . had to share.
Oriah Mountain Dreamer © 1995
by Oriah House, from "Dreams of Desire"
Published by Mountain Dreaming
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 shrivelled 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 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 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.