Happy New Year Everyone! I hope everyone is starting their New Year off right and with the intentions you want for the year. January has been full of changes already or me this year, which is partially why I haven’t been posting as often.  Don’t worry that will change soon. This year one of the intentions I set was to work on blogging for you all more and consistently so here I am!  Other intentions of mine for the year  include  working on myself more, reflecting, living with an open heart, and looking at what I want and what would make me truly happy.  If you haven’t already I highly recommend setting your intentions for the year, it’s never too late!  I followed the format that Rachel Brathen, Yoga Girl, explained in her podcast From the Heart. You can find the link here.  I found it very helpful in setting my intentions for the new year ahead!

Her podcast helped me to really reflect and make plans for my new year ahead.  Rachel also shared a poem by Oriah Mountain Dreamer recently that really sat well with me.  Enough so that I bought the book, The Invitation.  So unlike other post I will leave you with the words that were left to me this January and I hope it helps you and your heart in some way.

 

The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

“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 centre 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, 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 at 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 centre 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.”