It doesn't intrest me what you do for a living; I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your hearts 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 and 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 opened to life's betrayals or have you shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain, 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 doesnt interest me if the story you are telling me is true; I want to know if you could dissapoint another to stay true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not to betray your own soul. I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore trust worthy. I want to know if you can see beauty even when its not pretty, and if you source your 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 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 greif and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and still do what needs to be done.
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 fades 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?