He stands there, saying nothing while his eyes betray the fear in him

It must be killing him, she thinks.  Her heart longing to share in his agony

But she knows that as in countless times before, he will not let her get close

And even as she takes a step forward, she can already see the walls closing in…

Which makes her hesitate mid-stride as she realizes the futility of it all

Maybe another day and time when he finally learns to see a friend not a foe

The tree will bear fruit and she will no longer contend with the barrenness.



To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends.
To appreciate beauty;
To find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition;
To know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Invitation.

I can add my thoughts but I hardly think that I could do better than Oriah.  Her poem is timeless and a true representation of what honest relationships ought to be like.  Enjoy!

By Oriah Mountain Dreamer

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 center of your own sorrow,
If you have been opened by life’s betrayals,
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, be realistic,
or 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.
I want to know if you can be faithless and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty
Even when it is not pretty every day,
And if you can 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 a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon,

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 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 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.



If I Knew You & You Knew Me

I have heard it said that everyone wears a mask to the outside world.  That we never really allow others to see our true selves.  Fear of rejection keeps us hedged in as we ceaselessly try to portray a ‘picture perfect’ life.  The world reinforces our false beliefs by reminding us constantly that we have to make a good ‘first impression’.

But, what if we met and gave each the chance to be honest with ourselves and with each other?

What if we refused to allow ‘stereotypes’ to colour our perception?

What if I truly knew you and you knew me?

Then we would realize that we are not as different as we think.  At the end of the day, we all want the same things.  We have the same dreams and aspirations.  It really matters not what corner of the universe you are at.  You and I are the same and if we only knew, then we would learn to get along.

Or as Nixon Waterman put it:

If I knew you and you knew me,
If both of us could clearly see,
And with an inner sight divine,
The meaning of your heart and mine,
I’m sure that we would differ less,
And clasp our hands in friendliness;
Our thoughts would pleasantly agree,
If I knew you and you knew me.