Passion is a powerful or compelling feeling, so when one asks, "are you passionate about your work?" I ponder a bit. Perhaps the more appropriate question should be: "What am I passionate about?" Simply stated, without letting my tangent personality get the upper hand, I am passionate about life.
At a recent gathering, opportunities to observe and truly listen to conversations, presented themselves. Amid the chatter, laughter and the tiny but cautionary cries of a baby with an empty stomach, my mind presents me with a question I had contemplated many times but was always able to resist answering. As I comforted the small infant, slowly rocking him back to sleep, I began descending into anoesis but for only a micro moment. As if someone had painted a bold brazen scarlet letter upon my chest, the unanswered question that has been very much a thorn in my side, begins parading across my thoughts. "Is there soul in my work?"
Baby milk now ready for consumption, I return my joyful, sweet smelling, wiggly worm little package to the arms of his waiting mom. As I settle in for the opening of the wide array of gifts presented to the future Mr. and Mrs., my eyes scan the room. The happy couple laughing, kissing, surrounded by all those who care deeply, savouring their moment. It is their day, their gifts, thoughtfully chosen by those closest to them. My eyes have captured, my brain is recording. Jokingly I am leaning forward, resting my arms on a walker belonging to the Dad of the future bride. Just released from the hospital, a tenaciously spirited man, there is a battle of survival raging within him. Looking deep into his eyes, I see the love and pride for his daughter pouring forth, he, has "soul in his work!" Daddy is hanging in there! All around the happy couple, people are laughing, smiling, taking pictures. Her attendants are....attending. A break from tradition, she has chosen her closest friend, someone who has, for the last ten plus years, been with her and her family. Someone who seen her triumphs, has encouraged, poked and prodded her and her loved ones through dark times and the happiest of moments, her "Man of Honor."
As I watch and enjoy the moments happening all around, my eyes again fix themselves on her Dad. There is a softness in his glaze as he looks at each gift. Although he cannot easily move about, he too is capturing everything. Mom is helping deliver the gifts, Dad is proudly beaming. As I try to invade his thoughts, he leans towards me."I want to tell you," he softly whispers, "he is the best, my daughter chose wisely, her Man of Honor. He may be her best friend but he is the best friend everyone should have. You did a good job Mom, you should be proud!" As emotions swirled, a gentle calmness settled within, "Thank you, he is a wonderful young man, with out a doubt I am proud!" Allowing that warm calmness to invade, I realized, although I do not take myself seriously, I take life itself very seriously, I have been blessed. There is soul in my work!
At a recent gathering, opportunities to observe and truly listen to conversations, presented themselves. Amid the chatter, laughter and the tiny but cautionary cries of a baby with an empty stomach, my mind presents me with a question I had contemplated many times but was always able to resist answering. As I comforted the small infant, slowly rocking him back to sleep, I began descending into anoesis but for only a micro moment. As if someone had painted a bold brazen scarlet letter upon my chest, the unanswered question that has been very much a thorn in my side, begins parading across my thoughts. "Is there soul in my work?"
Baby milk now ready for consumption, I return my joyful, sweet smelling, wiggly worm little package to the arms of his waiting mom. As I settle in for the opening of the wide array of gifts presented to the future Mr. and Mrs., my eyes scan the room. The happy couple laughing, kissing, surrounded by all those who care deeply, savouring their moment. It is their day, their gifts, thoughtfully chosen by those closest to them. My eyes have captured, my brain is recording. Jokingly I am leaning forward, resting my arms on a walker belonging to the Dad of the future bride. Just released from the hospital, a tenaciously spirited man, there is a battle of survival raging within him. Looking deep into his eyes, I see the love and pride for his daughter pouring forth, he, has "soul in his work!" Daddy is hanging in there! All around the happy couple, people are laughing, smiling, taking pictures. Her attendants are....attending. A break from tradition, she has chosen her closest friend, someone who has, for the last ten plus years, been with her and her family. Someone who seen her triumphs, has encouraged, poked and prodded her and her loved ones through dark times and the happiest of moments, her "Man of Honor."
As I watch and enjoy the moments happening all around, my eyes again fix themselves on her Dad. There is a softness in his glaze as he looks at each gift. Although he cannot easily move about, he too is capturing everything. Mom is helping deliver the gifts, Dad is proudly beaming. As I try to invade his thoughts, he leans towards me."I want to tell you," he softly whispers, "he is the best, my daughter chose wisely, her Man of Honor. He may be her best friend but he is the best friend everyone should have. You did a good job Mom, you should be proud!" As emotions swirled, a gentle calmness settled within, "Thank you, he is a wonderful young man, with out a doubt I am proud!" Allowing that warm calmness to invade, I realized, although I do not take myself seriously, I take life itself very seriously, I have been blessed. There is soul in my work!
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