I don’t care

I don’t care how you earn your living. I want to know what you crave and whether you have the courage to dream of fulfilling the desires of your heart.

I don’t care how old you are. I want to know if you’re willing to risk turning out to be a fool for love, for your dreams, for this adventure we call life.

I don’t care which planets act on your moon. I want to know if you’ve reached the center of your own pain, if life’s disappointments have opened you up, or if you’ve stiffened and shut down for fear of not feeling the pain again. I want to know if you are able to endure the pain, mine or your own, without having to hide or alleviate or erase it.

I want to know if you can rejoice, for me or for yourself, and if you can dance wildly and let ecstasy overwhelm you to the tips of your fingers without warning us to be careful, realistic, aware of human limitations.

I don’t care if the story you’re telling me is true.

I want to know if you are willing to disappoint another to be honest with yourself; are you willing to make accusations of treason without betraying yourself: can you be a traitor and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you are able to see beauty, even if it is not beautiful, every day, and if you can inspire your life with Her presence.

I want to know if you’re strong enough to live with failure, your own and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout excitedly at the silver full moon, “YES!”

I don’t care where you live and how much money you have.

I want to know if you are able to get up, after a night filled with sadness and despair, tired and beaten to the bone, and do whatever it takes to feed your children.

I don’t care who you know and how you got here. I want to know if you will continue to stand with me in the heat of the fire and not give up.

I don’t care where you are or what or who you studied with. I want to know what pushes you forward in yourself in moments when everything else is falling apart. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly love the person you are in moments of emptiness.

27 thoughts on “I don’t care”

  1. I love this. I think there’s so much emphasis on the things that don’t really matter about a person. People want to know the things that really are surface level, rather than getting to the root of who a person is. I honestly don’t care how much someone makes. What you make and what you weigh are two of the most boring pieces of information about a person x

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Very eloquent words, Marta. It’s one of life’s riddles, isn’t it? Or maybe call it the dialectic of love. “I don’t care” opens one up to truly lasting love, the reality of which is “I do care,” at least about what really matters in the other. That’s a love that rides the storm out.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Wow, this is beautiful and blew me away! It’s so important to look beyond the surface and get to know who people really are. I have no patience for “small talk” for these same reasons that you mention.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I really love this. People tend to home in on things that just don’t matter. It’s far better to get to the heart of who a person is and just be real with each other.


  5. This is such beautiful and powerful piece. it teaches us that in the world of love, it is important to surpass the superficial aspect and get to know the person deeply of who they really are

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I am thankful to have read this article today. Sometimes we get blinded by matters that are actually trivial and we forget those that are important for our existence. I have always kept this list of priorities in mind – “God. Family. Work. In that order.”

    Liked by 1 person

  7. This post is so well written , it is so true that we are judged by the exterior when really no one really digs deep into a person to see the true person .

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s