The Invitation by Oriah
The Invitation by Oriah 我不关心你怎么谋生 我想知道的 是什么使你疼痛 是你敢不敢直面你的欲望 我不关心你存在了多久 我想知道是 你会不会去冒险成为一个傻瓜
或许为了爱、或许为了梦 为了活着本身这场历险 我不关心的是你的星座 我想知道的是 你是否曾经触及过你悲伤的中心 你是否曾被生活的背叛击碎过 或者已经逐渐收缩、闭合 受制于更大的伤痛所可能带来的恐惧 我想知道 你能否跟痛苦并肩而坐 我的痛苦或者你自己的 而不是去掩埋它 冲淡它 修补它 我想知道 你能否与欢喜同在 我的欢喜或是你自己的 你是否会任自己身处迷狂之中 任由自己的身体，直至指尖和脚趾 都在忘我中狂舞 而不来告诫我们 小心一点 现实一些 记住身为一个人类的种种局限 我不关心 你给我讲的故事是不是真实 我想知道的是 你敢不敢去挫伤别人的期望 却永远对自己保持忠诚 你能不能背负背叛别人的骂名 却始终不背弃自己的灵魂 你敢不敢放弃自己的信仰 却也因此更加值得信赖 我想知道你能不能看见美 即使并非每一天都显得漂亮 你能不能从它枝节盘亘的表面 溯回你的生命的源头 我想知道的是你能否和失败共同生活 你的失败或者我的 却仍然伫立在大湖的边际 冲着银河呐喊 “不” 我不关心你住在哪里 或者怀揣多少财产 我想知道的是你能不能 在一个悲痛绝望的深夜 拖着你疲乏的被尖锐挫伤后的躯体 起身去做那些等待着你来做的事情 去喂养饿着的孩子 我不关心你认识谁 或者你怎么到的这儿 我想知道的是你是否 会伫立在火焰的中心 同我一道 毫不缩退 我不关心 你在哪上的学，都学了什么，和谁在一起学习 我想了解的是—— 是什么构成了你 当一切都烟消云散的时候 是什么护佑着你的内核 我想知道 你能否独自面对自己 你是否真的爱着 那些空寂 那些给予你自己的陪伴 （译：菜菜侠） 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 to 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 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.
