Someone asked me that a couple of weeks ago, and I couldn’t come up with an answer. That got me a little concerned about myself. Everyone should have something they’re passionate about, at least some of the time. I have before. Just not now. And not for some time, for that matter.
This feels a lot like being back in the plane of lethal flatness. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve spent most of my life there without realizing it. And being me, I also have to wonder what, if anything, I’m doing to cause it.
One of the valuable lessons I learned going through the infidelity shit-storm that destroyed my marriage was that when you stuff down the bad emotions, you stuff down all your emotions. Like I mentioned recently, 2016 was an emotionally tough year for me. For several years before that, I watched my mom’s health decline, and the dementia worsen. There were too many times where I had to put the emotions in that little box in my head just so I could deal with what needed to be done. Stuffing down the bad, the sad, the scary, the anger, the guilt.
Then there’s work, where I stuff down the boredom, the contempt, and the anger on a regular basis. Because…paycheck. I’m not going to burn any bridges until I’m safely somewhere else.
So, lot’s of stuffing of emotions around here lately. Lots of meh, not lots of joy or passion. Not sure how to change that, I just know it needs to change. The next time someone asks me what my passions are, I’d like to have an answer for them.