The Invitation


The Invitation

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.

-Oriah Mountain Dreamer

Shout Out To Everyone Who Still Tries To Get Back

Shout Out To Everyone Who Still Tries To Get Back


You have lost your support system? Create one. “someone said, whenever”

I had an elastic string on my pajamas top from the moment I bought it. It was hanging there, so I was diligently tying it up every time it got untied. Until it started getting loose, very loose. So loose, once I got the pj’s out of the dryer it was way too loose. I mean hanging an inch above the floor. So I pulled it out, all of it out. I guess I could have done that a while ago, but it was kind of keeping me safe.

You’ve been there, I’ve been there.

There are two ways:

you wake up, it’s Monday mood. But not that Monday, it’s Monday for change, you dress up, full gym routine, e-mails checked, by lunchtime, you feel productive, a huge smile on the face (not a fake one this time). Until when? Until a minute past five (for those of you, with whom motivation sticks for longer, save some time and stop reading now.) What’s next? Nothing’s next. Anxiety has been creeping around for a lot longer to be forgotten so disgracefully with the blink of an eye. There she is again, the good old lady.

“You know what, I’ve been good today, I deserve a treat”. Not always in the sense of a sweet treat, of course, anything that makes your dopamine go high (or low, I’m not an expert). A lollipop, condoms, Xanax, a new lamp, body lotion, massage, bottle of ultra vegan, gluten-free, dairy-free, tasteless lee ee smoothie (please don’t be offended, these are just words on a sheet of paper at the end of the day). Okay, you get it. Better now? Better. Really? Well… that’s just one day of the change of course, what could I expect more? A week, a decade, two decades, three decades, a lifetime? Ideally, yes. Realistically, no. Rather until the next outburst of obsession, depression, secret confession, that thing that you do to escape your underlying lack of… “something”. Let’s call it a sense, sense of belonging. That is the one thing, we, millennials, baby boomers, however, you identify yourself (if you manage to do so at all) seek, unconsciously. Is this the something that makes people nowadays pursue a position change, career change, house change, lifestyle change, mind change, wife change, husband change, any change? Maybe. I tend to think so. Where was I?

Okay, you get the juice, you drink it, it goes down, way down, it eventually goes out (yes, I mean you do the daily job). Slightly ever are you up, but deep down you know you are down. And it is still Monday. So you have identified “IT”, you analyze “IT”, the problem “IT”. If there is one. You’ve felt that way for so long, you think, well, this might be just the way it should be, life is difficult, they say. So you switch off the lamp, the old one.

The second way:

you wake up – total disaster. You are late, not for work, but with work. It doesn’t like you, you don’t like it. You fake it, but no, unfortunately, you don’t become it (no offense Amy Cuddy). The best thing you know, you recognize this “something”. You see it, in every article on Linkedin, youtube, facebook, any social media, let us be bombarded with content, lots of content, that leads the thought somewhere. Usually where we allow it to go, hand in hand with the other thoughts we have. You have. It’s lunchtime. Progress? You can hardly quantify it unless your manager does. Then you’re burnt. But suppose you aren’t. You go to lunch, eat, read, nap in the toilet, watch, talk, laugh, all to distract the mind, but not let it shine (unless you’re one of those freaks loaded with motivation which should have most certainly stopped reading by now). So you go back to procrastinate, for a little while, and then a little bit more… Until when? Until reality kicks in, they say. I say until you face the devil, or the inevitability of time passing by. So you get your shit together, do some work, as inefficiently and implicitly under your capabilities. Good thing it’s time to go. And you go. And it’s an escape. So anxiety stays back, you leave it there, at work. There is the sunshine, no clouds, you have half an hour until you get home, you analyze and realize “IT” is work that is the cell, the problem. No, it’s you. The work is just a mere work and you chose it (please note, this is particularly relevant to developed countries of the Northern Hemisphere).

Okay, so it’s you, then what do you do, what can you do? You look back, plenty of examples: historical figures, influencers, great dictators, imitators, all of them you want to be. Or at least you think, that’s when change comes in. It grasps you, it teaches you, most of them say “do more and you’re saved”. So you do more, for one night, a lot more than last night, you plan and dream big and overwhelmed in a streak, you shut down with a dopamine peak.

So what is the big deal with change that I have? It’s more than an honor to build it yourself, though, I don’t think this is precisely the case. These examples of strive for a change were built on the premise of loneliness. Say they weren’t lacking a physical element, but a way to express and identify themselves. Through others’ recognition, interest, and care what I believe is the ultimate way. A supportive system of equally imperfect creatures like ourselves should at least create a sense of “ah, it’s not that bad”.


I’ve had it, you’ve had it, but loose it we shall (wow that goes way above the non-contemporary style I was hoping for) so that we realize we need it and find it again. How? I don’t know, but it is in us, not in products, images or the hour I’ve invested in writing this piece. I’m going now… Definitely one of that late night big dreamers I am. I have to change, no wait… I don’t.