UnknownWhere do you feel passion — in your soul and spirit?  In your body and mind?  On my roller blade this morning I was really alive.  I felt and took in the clear air;  the exhilaration of the flow and movement; the pleasure of seeing water birds and the glint of sun on the waves…

As I rolled along, I mused about passion.  For life. For things little and big.  The passion I feel when injustice is apparent and egregious.  (Sometimes my response manifests as hate, but when I look deeper, I find love and caring, indignation and determination.)  Passion for blackberries and fro-yo :-).

Here is an, off-the-top, not ordered or complete, but free-flowing and spontaneous list of some of what I am passionate about, feel love for, care deeply about — things that bring vitality and joy to my life.  I had fun sensing the aliveness and passion as I created the list:

The night sky — the deep, luminous, mystery of it; the red beech tree in front of our window; good food; music; playing our new baby grand; taking bike trips together;IMG_8102 singing together; exercise; health; dragonflies; reading to grandkids; pumpkin lattes; social justice and proportional representation; Mike’s porridge in the morning; the exhilaration and exhaustion of hard exercise; melted cheese; blackberries;
IMG_8137staying as fit and healthy as possible; cozy, quiet winter evenings with a book and cup of tea; sunshine; roller blading; getting Stephen Harper out of office; the ocean; coral reefs; octopuses and seahorses; doing what we can to halt/limit climate change; clear communication; the evolution of consciousness; neuroplasticity….!!!

The list would be very long, but this was fun for me, and enough for you.

What are you passionate about?  I’d like to hear.

When I got home I came across this poem in the Writer’s Almanac for today:

From a Country Overlooked 

by Tom Hennen

There are no creatures you cannot love.
A frog calling at God
From the moon-filled ditch
As you stand on the country road in the June night.
The sound is enough to make the stars weep
With happiness.
In the morning the landscape green
Is lifted off the ground by the scent of grass.
The day is carried across its hours
Without any effort by the shining insects
That are living their secret lives.
The space between the prairie horizons
Makes us ache with its beauty.
Cottonwood leaves click in an ancient tongue
To the farthest cold dark in the universe.
The cottonwood also talks to you
Of breeze and speckled sunlight.
You are at home in these
great empty places
along with red-wing blackbirds and sloughs.
You are comfortable in this spot
so full of grace and being
that it sparkles like jewels
spilled on water.

The poem spills over with a kind of soft passion.  I smiled, and was touched, when I read it.  I hope you will be too.

Jill Schroder is the author of BECOMING: Journeying Toward Authenticity.  BECOMING is an invitation for self-reflection, and to mine our memorable moments for insights, meaning, and growth.  Check the website for a sample chapter, or see the reviews to get a flavor for the volume.  Follow me on Twitter, let’s be friends on Facebook :-)

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