It is not uncommon for me to find myself wondering why the hell I do what I do. More so, why the hell do I care so much about all the people whom I am hoping to help when I do all the stuff that I do.
Most times, I just do what I do without thought … just plod along and don’t think about much else, other than Just. Keep. Swimming.
I had a meeting yesterday morning. I was nervous. I didn’t really know what to expect, or have any clue as to what the outcome may be.
I found myself nearly in tears.
Then I found myself in tears.
With anxiety, mostly, I think … but it is so much more than that … it is Passion … it is my calling … behind all the tears.
Here is what Passion looks like.
It looks like sitting at a computer for hours and hours at a time; writing articles and blog posts, reading articles and blog posts and news items, and more.
It looks like hours; four to six minimum, working on and creating proposals for a variety of others.
It looks like a furrowed brow when you’re trying to get the words right so that others will see the benefit in what you’re doing; for them and for everyone.
It looks like that frustration when someone misinterprets what you’ve said, or worse, decides that you’ve said it to them.
It is the knife to the heart when you can’t fix it, because they have decided you are wrong, and won’t be budged or open to any other possibility, perspective, or alternative scenario.
It is the smile that lights up your face when someone accepts your proposal, or contacts you to ask you to work with them on a project, or speak at their event.
It is the elation and spirit-lifting when you have before you the opportunity to help more, to reach a wider audience and make a difference to more lives.
It is the relief you experience when you have a break, a helping hand, a step up with that project you have been working on.
It is the euphoria you feel when it takes off.
It is the heart gripping horror when you discover your ‘helping hand’ was only in it for themselves and leaves you in the lurch, financially, emotionally, practically.
It is the devastation when your contact, the one who has supported you as much as they can in getting your project off the ground leaves, and you are left with nothing … all your preparation, your foot in the door, your opportunities turned to a fine gas and wafting out the door in the wake of your contact.
It is the excitement you share with others, and the excitement they experience, when a new opportunity comes your way.
It is the feeling of incompetence when that opportunity is whisked away, through not fault of your own, because the new guy in the PR department thinks there are better ideas.
It is the constant disgust at yourself at not carrying through with things you started (even though this is not your fault).
It is the embarrassment when you have raved about this opportunity publicly, only to have it whisked away a month later.
It is the feeling of failure at having it whisked away.
It is the crushing defeat, the inability to breathe, tears welling up in eyes when all the hours you’ve put in amount to nothing.
It is the wave of the hand and the flippant “ah well, next time”, and the big smile plastered on the face.
It is the tears running down your cheeks, along with a desire to give up.
It is the nauseous feeling when it hits you that you won’t have this passion in your life any more if you do give up.
It is the sleepless nights and fatigue.
It is am unconscious pulling towards an outcome.
It is the rage that comes from nowhere when someone speaks against your cause.
It is the inability to remain quiet when someone says something incorrect in the area of your passion.
It is the visceral, insatiable drive to do something.
It comes from nowhere, and has no reason.
It just is.
It is the uncontrollable sobbing, the lying under the doona, the debilitating feeling of uselessness and hopelessness ….