I don’t care what circumstances you come from. Hard or easy. Generous or scarce. Lucky or forgotten. I want to know if you’re willing to rewrite any story in your life in order to free yourself. At any moment, are you willing to give up who you are for who you might become?

I don’t care what God you do or don’t believe in. I don’t care how awakened or enlightened you are. I want to know how you feel about your fellow human beings, what differences you’re willing to put aside in order to connect with those you love. If you (as Rumi says) are willing to lie down with another soul in the field beyond ideas of right and wrong. Would you give that a chance, to see what might be discovered there?

I don’t care what books you’ve read, what steps you follow, what retreats you’ve attended, or what guru led you here. I want to know what you do with your grief pain when it seethes and rises from within the depths of you in the middle of a dark night. When no one is there to tell you what to think, feel, or do about it. How do you meet the pain that is uniquely yours? Are you willing to dance in the refining fires of your own soul when no one is there to hold your hand?

I don’t care how cool you are, who you rub shoulders with, how many followers you have. I want to know what makes your heart tick when no one is around. I want to know what lengths you’d go to in order to live up to the spirit, the truth, the soul-on-fire within you. What would you give up in order to be true? Would you walk alone if you had to? And for how long?

I don’t care about your money, your sex, your clothes, your guitars, or how good you are at manifesting the life of your dreams. I want to know about your relationship to all those things. How do you feel about them. Do you feel free? And if it all fell through today, could you find abundance in nothing? Fullness in emptiness? Light in brokenness?

Let’s talk about the things you’re afraid to admit you still struggle with because you think you should have it figured out by now–the things so many of us have in common. The fragility and vulnerability that unites us in our humanness. I want to talk about those things. The detours and failures. The ups and downs and how to close those gaps.

And I know people say not to live with regrets, but really, tell me about your regrets, the things that still eat away at you, the things you can’t seem to shake.

How do you handle this gravity of being human when your spirit just wants to fly?

What about your aches, and your longings, and the dreams you’re afraid to dream because dreams have a way of giving up on you? Let’s talk about the rug being pulled out from under you every time you take a solid step forward. Let’s talk about the path not being clear and how far you’re willing to travel only seeing one step at a time.

See?

I don’t care. Because I do. I really, really do.

Comments are closed.