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 meetings your life'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 been shriveled and closed from
fear of future 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, 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 bear the
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 own life from God's presence. I want to know if you can live with the
failure, yours or 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, 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 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.
