A couple of weeks ago I wrote about dating sites. Then I received an email with this poem by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

Next time you are on a date, forget the usual “what do you look like,” “what do you do,” “how much do you earn,” “what car do you drive,” “how many children do you want, and when?” Go to the real heart of the matter with an inquiry into the soul:

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

to be realistic

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.

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.

(By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming, from the book The Invitation published by HarperONE, San Francisco,1999 All rights reserved)

Dating sites like match.com have proliferated over the last few years and have entered the mainstream of life. So much so that people, upon observing the dearth of eligible men in my life, often ask me why I don’t use them.

It is true. There is a dearth. Since Ian died over six years ago I have dated no one. I have had a coffee with a couple of guys but you could hardly call them dates. It took less than five seconds for me to decide I wanted out, and I suspect they felt the same, and from there on we just went through the motions so as not to offend.

One guy I know, a linear left-brainer, is quite insistent that it makes logical sense to speed date. Based on statistics on the page, he is convinced I am much more likely to find a compatible man by appraising, and in return being appraised, in a matter of minutes.

But soul, love and destiny don’t fit easily on anyone’s page, or checklist. That is the point of it all. There is an irrational, indescribable, almost fated feel to the relationships we are destined to have, and anything less feels like an empty shell that we merely inhabit to avoid being alone.

And isn’t that why people use dating sites, because they are too afraid to be alone?

An older-than-her-years 24 year old young woman recently told me, she sees these sites as a way for people to find a quick fix for some lack or inadequacy in themselves and they are searching for that special someone to make them feel special, because they can’t feel it for themselves. They want someone who will make them feel smart, funny, beautiful, worthy, sexy, desirable (if not just to make a night pass) because for them, it’s only true when someone else says it.

Trouble is, just like after a while one cookie/beer/coffee/cigarette can’t satisfy our appetite and we start to need two, three, and more. That one person soon loses their shine and the insidious feelings of lack/inadequacy creep back again. And then on top of that, it is possible that we create a whole new set of karmic entanglements which we must eventually disentangle and balance.

Besides, ‘compatible’ doesn’t nearly do it. That is living life way too small for me!

I’m not looking for someone who can make me feel better about myself. I’ve learned to do that on my own. These last six years have been a crash course in self-knowledge, and thus, appreciation. It is an irreversible journey to self/Self that changes one forever.

I’m also not looking for someone to help me fit into others’ social boxes, even though sometimes it would be great to be one of the many couples in my life. But this brief moment of feeling excluded is just not enough to go through the suffering and angst of being in a mismatch.

If true love exists at all, it must exist within us first. No matter our relationship status, we carry that love with us and we find we are always “in” love. It needs no love object outside of ourselves.

But, if we happen to be in a relationship then it becomes a magnificent, soul-affirming, soul-feeding emanation, extension and enhancement of the healthy and whole love that already exists within us.

Now that’s a match made in heaven.