The new year begins

We keep hearing from Smidge out in St. Paul that her hostess’s Bean is unwell.  That means Smidge’s new year began with her performing her passion: nursing.  She and friend Voir are trying to make Voir’s Bean comfortable and get her through the illness and back to her typical self.

It makes me wonder whether people, in general, recognize what they have a passion for, and, if they know, whether or not they act on it.

I don’t think finding one’s passion is necessarily hard, but I suspect recognizing it and acting on it might be difficult for some.  Even things you love require effort to accomplish.

My passion is writing, and I try to write as often as I can.  Oh sure, sometimes the writing isn’t easy, or it just isn’t quite what I thought I meant to write, but it is what comes through, and the fact that I do it at all is everything.  It can be hard, for example, to start.  Bean told me that, many years ago during a class discussion on the difficulties of beginning to write, a former student of hers wisely said that she didn’t always start what she was supposed to write but she always wrote down something as soon as she got a writing assignment, and that was, she said, the beginning.  You just have to start, to try, to push yourself to do whatever task is at hand, whether for pleasure or because it’s your job.

And we all have the moments when, following our passion or not, we need a push; sometimes we must give that push to ourselves.

We have to TRY.

 

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