Friday, April 21, 2017



     When was the last time you said, “Boy, oh boy, I can’t wait!” I can honestly say I feel that way about almost every morning of my life. Why? Because I am living my passion. If you dread tomorrow, or you find yourself not wanting to get up in the morning, ask yourself what you are doing that is making you feel this way? “Easy for you to say,” you might think. “You don’t have to deal with my issues and my circumstances.” True, I don’t. I do know, however, that we all endure cycles of living where no matter which way we turn, there are crises, problems, setbacks, detours. Somehow, however, we always seem to get through them. After all, we’ve had more than one, so that should tell us we endured the last. 

      My life has not been perfect, as some people claim theirs is. I am lucky in many ways, but most of what I have and have accomplished, I’ve worked my ass off for, and I’ve endured the roadblocks and emotional injuries that risking implies. I never stop risking, though. Why? Because if you don’t risk, you don’t grow. You stay in your little safe place, and you never experience the humility and growth of failure or taste the delicious flavor of success.

     I raised a family alone. I lost love. People I loved  have died. I have been ill and dealt with life-threatening disease. I know pain, sorrow and depression. I have wanted to crawl under my covers and never come out. Yes, I have bled on the pages of my existence, but as I am getting older way too fast, I am now finding myself clinging  to the healthy days, squeezing every ounce of joy I can from each one.

      How do I do this? I live my passion. What is yours? What do you do that time goes so fast, you look up and hours have passed? What do you do or want to do that gives you inner peace and/or exquisite joy? I chased happiness. Sometimes I caught some, and it lasted a little while. I live joy. Joy lasts. 

     I am dealing with some issues now that make me very anxious and even sad. Tears show up when I least expect them. Yet, still I can’t wait to get up in the morning and dive head first into my passion. I lose myself in it. I don’t think about the pain or sadness that tries to swallow me up. I am too busy jumping for joy tackling the next step of my passion.

      My passion is my purpose. Sometimes I label it “the curse of the capable,” but most often, I say prayers of gratitude to the Big Guy who has given me the tools to find it. Maybe you need to ask His help? Lately, my knees are swollen from being on them so much. Somehow, I always rise.