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, be real­is­tic, 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.