For as long as I can remember I have sought out one thing…..passion. I know its not a thing, but it begins to feel like as though it is in fact, tangible, then slip through your fingers.
I have had passionate moments. I’m not talking about that kind of passion (though it would be nice if that would stop evading me as well). I have been a passionate metalsmith, painter, and into porcelain pottery making for a while. But that kind of interest wanes, makes me self conscious about more things in our overly laden things world. I’ve been passionate about doing something useful, with meaning. I’ve shouted on the state house steps about equal rights, advocating for kids needing to be adopted and artists getting paid for their work instead of being expected to donate it to causes all the time.
For a variety of reasons including surgery, kids and changing jobs, I stopped art making. Not only did I no longer feel any passion about it, I lost all sense of being inspired. Fellow artist friends said ‘just make’ as though that would remedy my malaise. It’s hard for me to force myself to do it. The times I did it was okay, but it was hard to focus. My dad assigned me the task of making an urn for my mom’s ashes. At first I loved the idea, but having not worked at my wheel for a really long time and have a painful shoulder, it became frustrating and anxiety-causing fast. My studio now in a heap in the basement, clay hard and unyielding, I suggested he get an urn somewhere else.
I’ve continued to feel stymied in my daily life. Is this it? Get up, go through the daily routine of living, go to bed. Really?
I’ve fallen in love with kayaking but when the weather is as bitter as its been here of late, that’s not an option. Getting close to the water does fill me with a kind of peace, joy and excitement and always has.
So I’ve been going to therapy about this. Talking, listening, contemplating. I’ve become more aware, again. It’s like in the Four Agreements where he says we are awake and fall asleep to knowing and go back and forth between these realities. I’m present much more, conscious of how I’m feeling, conscious of how I’m being.
I think it can be easy, at least for me, to be lulled by disenchantment. Lulled by the accepting of this is just how things are. It’s also easy to get lazy and then wonder how the hell I got where I am. Fortunately those times have gotten shorter and shorter and I lean into finding what feels right, better, joyful even.
And so, it finding a moment of spark, opportunity something amazing happened…..