What’s your passion?

How many times has someone stared at you intensely and driven that question like a spike into your soul?

Maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who has a calling, who knows exactly why you wake up in the morning.

But more likely asking about your passion reminds you of what is missing in  your life and leads to confusion, or pain, or simply sadness; some people live with that level of knowing, but not you.

I’ve had times of intense drive and passion, and fallow years in which I feel like I’m searching for something that will never come again.

But what if the search for passion is a white elephant? What if passion is no different than the feeling of falling in love, which matures and mellows and gains patina as it ages, until it is something soft and warm, until it cuddles you instead of lighting you on fire?

What if a life’s passion is like that?

Today I watched our carpenter nurse a recalcitrant board into place. It made me think of working on projects with my husband, the two of us getting angrier and angrier as things didn’t come together just right.

And yet I have watched myself patiently work with a student, turning things this way and that, until the moment when it all clicks.

I’ve watched my husband patiently helping customers at Herbiary, repeating information and assurances.

What if that is how we know our life’s work?

What if we’ve been asking the wrong question?

Maybe the question isn’t What’s your passion? Maybe the question is What’s your patience?





P.S. I recently learned that Reishi was used in Taoist medicine for helping people come into their life purpose. If you try it, let me know how it works for you!