Posts Tagged ‘relationship’

Passion Prey or Passion Play?

Sunday, February 14th, 2010
Closing in...

“I don’t know what my passion is. I have to find my passion.”

Is that true? I wonder if we can let it find us.

“What have you done about it so far?” I ask.  They present a list of their many failed attempts to find and follow their bliss.  I listen.  I witness their pain. I ask more questions.

How do you go about finding your passion? How do you know what to look for? For that matter, how will you know it when you’ve found it?

“Well, I’ll just know.”

Hm. How’s that worked for you so far?

Think about it. What do you feel when you go hunting for something you really want to find? Car keys, house keys, bank card? What energy do you carry with you? Desperation or a What if mind? A determined focus on the outcome or an in-the-flow mind? It’s no different when you go looking for your passion.

Do you stalk your passion like prey? Beat the bushes, create chaos in an attempt to drive it into the open? Try to capture a fleeting glimpse of it so you can hunt it down, claim it as yours and in a blinding flash know your way…feel victorious?  This may happen but the odds aren’t in your favour.  At least that’s been my experience.

Consider this.

What if you acknowledged your desire  for  your passion and then set about preparing a space  for it that’s welcoming, nurturing, flexible, invigorating; a space that allows for growth, change, reflection, relationship not ownership?

How does that feel? Did you just feel your body relax? Open up with ease? Did you feel your ‘what if’ mind spark with curiosity? Did you feel the luv?

The next time you feel the desperate need to find your passion try  this option. Create the space.  Good? Now go play.

About the Photo:

I had dropped to the ground to take a closeup of a crocus blossom.  My Irish Wolfhound closed in, passionate in her desire to protect me from attack. I mean I was laying prone- in need of protection, right? The crocus turned into her prey…until she read my energy and then, alas, the poor flowers became the object of play. The wolfhound snouted the flowers out of the soil and tossed them in the air.  Prancing around, she seized the moment, tossing them up again and again.  Passion play indeed.
P.S. How did she know she’d found her passion? She felt it and it felt like Play.

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