The Invitation

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 betrayal or have become shriveled 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's not pretty, everyday, 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 on 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.

-Oriah Mountain Dreamer-

New Beginnings or Continuation of Old Chapters

It's 2:45AM. Insomniac, maybe. Restless, definitely. Lost, of course.

29 yrs old, in a job that I've learned all I can from, living in a country that no longer entices me, heartbroken, and living at home with the folks. 

For the last several weeks, I've been dining with doctors on a diet that consists entirely of cardboard, hold the butter please. After weeks of making me a human dartboard, the final verdict (maybe) was gallstones, acidity and cysts in both ovaries. Lovely combination for a prescription of no work, no sleep, no eating and endless assortments of pain. 

Life in comatose. Life made simple. Life who don't need you to teach its lessons. Simply to learn them. 

Almost 30. Almost married. Almost alive...but almost doesn't count, does it?