Thursday, July 1, 2010


Passion. It is such a fascinating word. For many it has to do with their love relationships. For some it relates to their anger. For me it is impossible to narrow down. For some reason I have many passions. Passions is the word I use to describe all of my interests. I don't see myself as a talented person. I am not gifted in music, sports, or really artistic abilities. I am not the smartest person I know and thankfully, not the dumbest either. Sometimes you meet a person and their gift or passion just strikes you. You automatically know what that person is great at or they describe their passion. At my age your passion should become your career. Don't get me wrong, I love my career. There is nothing to complain about it. Choosing a major in college was next to impossible for me. Why? Because I enjoyed so many subjects. Here is a list of my declared majors: business (haha!), English, psychology, human development & family studies, and I thought about many others. What did I think about? Counseling, sociology, communications, merchandising, political science, education, and who knows what else. Graduating in four years is actually a miracle. I think any profession, besides the world's oldest profession, I have researched and checked into my options.

Commitment is an issue for me as well. I am honestly shocked that I have been a teacher the past 5 years. Even though I love my job, I still wonder what my passion actually is. I read Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers and wanted to know even more what it is that I am going to spend 10,000 hours completing and eventually become great at doing. If only my mind were reality. Sometimes I tell my husband, "I want to do blah, blah, blah." He responds with, " You know you would be bored with that in 5 minutes." But the question remains, What is my passion? Is it right under my nose? Or am I trying to make hobbies my passion. Does you passion even have to be your career? Where did that idea even originate? Is it because I am an American that I feel the need to be "accomplished?" How do we even define accomplished? All of these questions lead to "Why do I even care?"

Sometimes my conclusion is simply that I appreciate many avenues, disciplines, and subjects in the world. I love literature. I love clothes. I love decorating. I love dogs. I love flea markets and anything vintage. I love ideas. I love food, but not fastfood. I love art and architecture. I secretly love reality shows and pop culture. I am not an expert on any of these topics. Most of the time I have not felt comfortable enough in my own skin to cultivate my passion. I care too much about what others think and what they expect from me. Expectations either motivate us or destroy us. I can look back on my life and see where some expectations started to peel back my layers. Some more layers than others. Some just ripped the layers away much more quickly than others. Yet, I realize that our passions add the layers. They are like aloe on the wounds. They bring joy whether they are professional passions or novice passions. Passions are passions. Simply strong and exciting.

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