I have toyed around with writing for ten months; now I’m in a position to perhaps make another choice. Maybe I dawdled long enough so that a choice was made for me. That is what my Mother would say. This is different. I do occasionally have problems with making speedy decisions, but it’s not because of shiny objects catching my attention, although, Dang! That has been known to happen, yet this is not the same.
I want to make a difference. I want to have a passion for what I do. When it is not in my work, I find a way to believe that it is; sometimes inappropriately. I see the imitation of ardor and then get disappointed when the feeling is not returned by the job. I want to jump fully into my work; to be committed as a dog to her mistress. What holds me back is the knowledge of how hard it is to be redirected when one is going at high speed. Yet, go a little slower . . . you won’t have what it takes to break free of earth’s gravity.
Is it like falling in love? You will know it when you feel it? I have never felt that way about something considered a job; plenty of times when I was researching some point for a friend for free, or just curious about why something was. It is just unacceptable to have your passion on the fringes of your life.
At least, it is unacceptable for me.