This is a link to a Good Morning America interview I think you will find of
I just finished reading this book. I wanted so much to send it to you, to make
you aware of the fact that you are not alone. That there were millions of
understanding and supportive women out there, women who get it. I am just not
entirely sure you would read it if I sent it though so I am sending you the link
for the book. Then the choice will be yours.
An article I would very much like you to read. Not because I want to place
unnecessary guilt on you, simply because I really want you to know my reasons
for searching were not out of the ordinary. It would help me to know you
understand, even if you are not able to comply with my desire to know you.:
There is a world of women out there just like you who talk to one another:
I hope you find value in some or all of the information I am sending. I wish you
I have had this poem framed and hanging in my home for five years~
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 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
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.