Dear friend . . . {a letter from the heart}

Apr

24
2013

Dear friend,

I found a passage from a book last week. And I haven’t been able to shake it.
The words ring in my ears. As if they were spoken from my own lips.
They remind me of you. Of us.
Of our friendship.
Of how we are in the world together.
Of all the ways I believe we were destined to be friends.
Like carbon copies of each other.
Sisters.
From another mother/father.

The passage also reminds me of what I wish for the world.
To truly be able to live within ourselves.
Without numbing. Without distraction.
With peace. With clarity.

Thank you my friend.
For daring me to live bolder. To dream bigger.
To open up to my sorrow and pain. To rise above.
For holding me accountable. For seeing me as I really am.
For loving me because of my silly quirks. And for standing with me proudly, when I fall.
For this and so many reasons more, I am honored to call you my friend.
Honored. Blessed. Grateful.

Love,
~S

:: from The Invitation by Oriah ::

“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.”