A Loss of Passion

Just recently I had some friends of mine nail me to the wall. Not literally, mind you, but two separate friends on two separate occasions pointed out some things going on in my life that just really made me sit up and listen.

The first came via an email from a guy that I've never even met in person. Matt is someone I met through my involvement in writing for Infuze and has been just a tremendous encourager and friend along the process of my trying to break into some sort of paid writing life. He's tossed me opportunity after opportunity and has continued to invest time into me. I'm incredibly thankful for his friendship and help. It was in his response to an email of mine though, that he really got me.

I'd emailed him asking, once again, for any ideas for writing venues and if he'd be willing to sort of share his journey of writing with me so that I could share it with my wife who was struggling to understand some of what I was doing. Essentially, she didn't get how my writing stuff for free would one day lead to me writing for money. And she especially wasn't real happy about my taking on more work to boot. Anyway, Matt made this sage declaration in that email before going on to tell me what I'd asked. He wrote:

"We seem to have much of the same heart and you seem frustrated in a job you don't want and without writing, I would wonder if you were moving toward any personal passion at all..."

Ouch. But right on.

The second friend to call me out, although this one was not so much a call-out as it was a clarification and understanding, was one of my dearest, Celena. Celena and I have known each other forever, having been friends since elementary school. Our paths have weaved in and out and our friendship has weaved with it but interestingly enough, we always end up back at the same spot. She is one of my most valued friends in this world and I was thrilled as she was in town and we had a chance to catch up at the local Perkin's one night not too long ago. I say catch up but that's sort of misleading. We arrived at the restaurant around seven in the evening and ended up leaving around one in the morning. For my money, that's a little more than catching up!

Anyway, a similar discussion came up in our talk and I shared with her my frustrations in doing what I do now and she pointed out part of the problem.

"You don't want to work for The Man," she said, smiling. I laughed but, truth was, she was right. I've never been much for the nine-to-fiver or anything closely resembling a traditional structure. And to top it off, the work that I do is rather unfulfilling. Totally not my passion.

I'm thankful for friends that tell you like it is and help to clarify things that you yourself just think nobody sees or understands. They were right. I have lost that sense of passion and, well, I don't want to work for The Man anymore. The quandary I find myself in now is in trying to discover where to go. Mid-life crises are supposed to happen later in life, not at the ripe old age of thirty!