finding my passion

I'm getting to a point in my life where changing careers is less practical. (I won't say less possible...anything's possible, right?) While I'm pretty good at what I do, and there are a lot of aspects I enjoy, I could stop tomorrow without a blink. I wasn't driven here by passion. I didn't choose my major because I loved tech.

When friends ask me what I'd rather do, I cringe "I don't know."

I've always wondered, is there something wrong with me. Am I a person without passion and therefore not capable? I was never that competitive or driven to achieve. Or had a goal I really cared about. I moved from one job to the next not out of ambition, but because it became too painful to stay.

I saw some live music this weekend. A friend who plays solo jazz guitar. He's quite good - he deserved better than the meager crowd at the winery. He played a few songs I recognized from my past and I was transported to our little jazz choir in high school.

Being a teenager was a little tricky for me because I was afraid of my peers. Didn't have a lot of skills around making or keeping friends and there were some lonely times. (Having a boyfriend my senior year certainly turned some of that around...)

But the music. I still have a relationship with those songs. They challenged me, pushed me out of my comfort zone. Created a bond with others as we tried to bring them to life in the director's vision. There were beautiful moments. And sad times when I let a song down. And surprising thrills when a song lead me to do something I never knew I could.

I hear new versions and I can't help but compare. Instrumental, faster, slower, Latin, straight ahead, no harmonies, less harmonies. I went on about it to my date, but I'm sure he didn't care. He didn't have a relationship with the song. He wasn't seeing an old flame with someone new. You gotta size her up, see if its something special, like what you had when you were together.

The next day I thought back to those times in childhood when I got lost in the moment. Building forts. Making clothes for my dolls. Decorating my bedroom. Singing with my friend on the swings. They were all creative moments with no one watching or judging me. It's when I felt the most "me". Jazz choir wasn't that simplistic; I didn't always know who I was in the middle of it, but it was a deep connection.

Maybe passion comes from finding those things again as an adult. Where you lose yourself and abandon the outcome. And try to connect to something that makes you grow and change and come back for more.

Maybe that's where it starts.