Oriahe Mountain Dreamer

Posted on November 24, 2007 by Wyzwmn
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 sorrow, 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, min 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 or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself, if you can beat accusation or betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it’s not pretty everyday, and if you can source your life from it’s presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and 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 bond and do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you are or how you came to be here. I want to know if you can stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me what or where 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 empty monuments.
–An Indian Elder
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Chapter 16

Posted on November 24, 2007 by Wyzwmn

the sound: Minnie Riperton – Loving You, AC/DC – It’s a Long Way to the Top, Paul McCartney & Wings – Let Me Roll It, The O’Jays – I Love Music, Hall and Oates – Sarah Smile, Olivia Newton John – Angel Eyes, Billy Preston – Nothing from Nothing, Helen Reddy – I am Woman, Tony Orlando & Dawn – Tie a Yellow Ribbon, Rush – In The Mood, Barry White – My First My Last My Everything

There’s a huge barn/garage to the left, peeling red paint and triple sliding doors, with a hay loft door open above…and there’s more bikes and old cars and trucks in different stages of repair than I can count at a glance.

There are more people than I’d expected to see and dead ahead of us is some kind of race track, in a field marked dead centre by a huge flat top boulder the size of a small car.

Along the right side of the tree line there are numerous tents and cabanas, cars, trucks and trailers and with people milling about. At a glance I see, canvas tarps, and clothes lines, and a couple of fire pits, I smell smoke and bacon fat, all of which make me think of a “gypsy” camp from those bodice rippers/fantasy books Mike used to say I had a lien towards.

To the left of the barn/garage there’s an old red clapboard farm house…more than a little worse for the wear. The garage/barn is in much better repair. It sits on a little rise, there’s a cement pad like drive up to the huge open sliding doors in front. It too is red, but newer and has what looks to be a brand spanking new red metal roof.

I can glimpse through the open barn doors to see more tool boxes than you’d usually see at the hardware store, there’s pulley’s hanging from the ceiling, an old fashioned coke a cola machine, and the ever present music.

To the left and slightly behind the farm house there is a huge old oak tree and I spot some other rather dilapidated old buildings and shacks behind them. Running free everywhere, there’s chickens and the occasional pig…and goats, about 30 small goats noisy goats.

As BarnYard pulls up in front of the old house a group of people begin to move towards us from all over the “farm”. BarnYard and Boomer hop out and BarnYard advises as I should “get my arse up and meet people”.

[ok kiddies..another note from Wyz….don’t be surprised if this stops for a while…I think I’m getting the blahs…besides…I ain’t even sure anyone’s reading the damn thing anymore…and sometimes all this remembering isn’t pretty over here….so…don’t be surprised~I’m just sayin]

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