So, I am in a state of utter fatigue and exhaustion (entirely my bad, so don’t you go feeling sorry for me now). My Little Person is cosily tucked up in bed pretending to be asleep. My cats are asleep. The Dude should be home any moment. I should be drinking tea and drooling over crochet patterns or poems or something. But no, I’m sitting here, with legs getting colder by the second, and I’m writing.
Because why? Because there’s a little part of me that says write, and you’ll feel better. Write, and you won’t be bored. Write, because you have not written for a few days. The tap-tap-tap of the keyboard, the tingly of fingers trying desperately to keep up with the brain, the delight as suddenly a new idea, or a resolution of an old idea, appears in the words, and somehow the world is a better place. (Not that any of that tingling is happening tonight, of course. I’m tired, did I mention that?)
That is passion. That thing that keeps you going doing the thing you do, even when it makes no sense, when there is no benefit, when you’re tired and it seems the stupidest thing in the world to be doing yet you do it anyway. Passion (also, probably, addiction, but never mind that. That’s a story for another day. Sorry. Rambling. Did I mention I’m tired?). Passion cannot be bought or sold, or traded. It’s the spark that refuses to die, and will consume your insides if you don’t let it out. Find good and healthy expression for your passion, and chances are it will sustain you through dark days, and make the thrill of the best days even greater. Don’t ignore it, don’t downplay it, don’t explain it away.
Passion makes the world of difference. It makes you do crazy things, and it keeps you sane.
What’s your passion?