My twitter feed has a theme this morning: passion.
People are passionate about internet marketing and realty and small business development. They want to know if I'm passionate about photography and impoverished women and my own personal growth.
Passion seems to be a buzzword these days, a meter by which you measure the depth and sincerity of your actions. Of course, sincere people don't tend to spout off about their sincerity, but that's another story.
What was I passionate about this morning? Well ... I wanted a mocha. I'm not sure I'd call it passion as much as thirst though. Post-mocha, I did my work by editing yesterday's scene before adding two more. Did I feel passionate about this? Hardly. I wasn't even in the mood at first, but then that's why they call it work.
I wonder if the people spouting off about passion really feel what they claim or if they just like something well enough and want to get a bit of attention for it. I mean, passionate about internet marketing? Really? Someone feels that? I guess it's possible but certainly outside the realm of my experience. Passionate about sending your kids to college or putting dinner on the table? Now that I understand.
The ubiquity of the term also leads to a pressure to claim feelings that one might not have. It's like the Martha Stewart Christmas Special of emotions - you can't help but compare yourself to all these self-actualizing, vocally passionate people and wonder what you're missing.
There are things I'm passionate about, of course. Faith, family, values. But I'm a bit burned out by the expectation to experience high emotion about so much else.
Nonetheless, I will admit to feeling quite passionate about one thing right now: a nap.
Big Heart of Art by qthomasbower