Recreating Passion - On the Spot
I have a previous post, you may have read it, maybe. Called, “On Passion.” And it’s great, it’s honest, it’s straight, and it’s fucking fleeting. Everything, always, fleeting.
So here is my new post, on passion, on bringing it back, on the spot, right now. The point? Literally just that. My passion has slipped through my fingertips; things not going the way I want translated into, “This isn’t it.” And that blows, that really blows, because there was a moment last year where my life aligned as I stood before an audience waiting to hear me speak. My life aligned as my fear engulfed me, and my life aligned as my best friend’s mom, with tears in her eyes, said, “Thank you,” and we hugged.
The truth? I gave my word to hold yet another event. Another event that requires meetings upon meetings, commute after commute, email after email, promotion upon promotion, and while we are at it, let’s throw in a fundraiser when we’ve never actually raised funds, and see if, just maybe, we can create a website (professionally) that will bring everything together. To top it off, let’s again, do it for free and pretend that it’s great, it’s all dandy, and that we don’t have expenses that require some financial attention. The truth is that blows. The truth is that it didn’t blow quite as much before. And the truth is that this is it. This is the reality of the situation, and I can suffer for yet another event, or I can recreate my passion, my commitment, and my happiness in fulfilling on both.
And this is what it looks like, live, with bloopers. As I come away from the paragraph above I can’t help but think, they are going to think I’m a self righteous asshole. Yet above is my occurring reality. And right here, I invite you along on this journey as I transform myself from a righteous asshole, to a caring individual, with a gift. I will be brutally honest, transparent, and leave you the space to choose to continue on said journey, or step off the train right now. But who am I kidding? I won’t even know who’s eyes move across this page, this one is mainly for me, it just holds a bit more intention when under the presumption that someone else if following the key strokes.
Let’s begin with the gift. GIFT. Present. Given. A talent. A given talent. A wrapped up, bow on top, shiny ribbon, given talent, presented to you, willingly, without payment. I opened this gift last May, I was in awe because I feared it so, because I ran from it for years, and there before me, lay my gift, and willingly, I gave it away. Now the beauty, and the…well shitty part, is that giving this gift away once, did not suffice, and there was much more where it came from. Or there was, until I choked the mother fucker, cried why me, and threw up the finger to everyone who didn’t even know they wanted such a present. That’s basically what’s been happening, graphically, as I move forward with a dire need to quit and pretend I never opened that silly box, on that silly day, where people’s lives were touched by a silly little present I gave selflessly, unknowing that in order to keep up my stock of it I had to CONSTANTLY recreate it’s existence.
My track record, when it comes to commitments, to choices (the irony), to completing something as it was meant to be done, is poor, very, very poor. I hide it well though, I justify the shit out of everything that I quit, and I convince myself every time, that it was a good idea to move on. And then I stand here with Choice in Recovery, a project that started over a year ago, that had more bumps, or larger valleys, than other things that I have started and quit, and I refuse to let go. The project has transformed, I have transformed, and it was never by accident, but by conscious effort and choice. The choice to create something worth fighting for, and the choice to do it over and over again. Now is the time, when my energy is low, when my drive is deteriorating, to recreate once again.
The possibility of Choice in Recovery is that people are provided options and given the opportunity to powerfully CHOOSE how they want to live their lives. I am dealing with people. I am dealing with lives. I am giving people the power to choose their lives. This is no small feat. I am giving people the power to choose to live. I am giving people the power to choose to live. I am left speechless by that line, by the ultimate result of Choice in Recovery. We show up to meetings, we brainstorm, we collaborate, we make changes, we find spaces, we get catering, we promote, we present, we hold a panel discussion, we thank our audience, we hear the applause, we move towards our tables to hand out further information, and it’s exciting, and it’s rewarding, and then we drive home. And in that applauding audience, is an individual who picked up a flier, who heard from a friend, who liked us on Facebook, who sat down, who listened, who was given options, who was granted power, and who powerfully, in that moment, chose to live. For that human being, I give my time, my tears, my frustrations.
I hate to admit that quitting has crossed my mind. I never expected for Choice in Recovery to be ongoing. For me, it was one event. But the demand was out there for more, and out of excitement, I took it on. Then one day the excitement decreased, and then another day it decreased some more. I gave up my business for a passion that financially cost me and that emotionally began to wear on me. And the suffering created in just that sentence, is all created through my language. Just as is, “I am giving people the power to choose to live.” So here I stand with a choice of my own. To suffer, or to have a cause worth fighting for.