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 the 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 for
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, or 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 accusation of 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
is 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
bone 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 moments.
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