Got a call from a dear friend I haven't spoken with in some time. You know how it happens -- you get caught up in the busy-ness of life and before you know it three years have gone by. As we caught up with each other, I shared with him the evolution of the The Idea Midwife™. And he shared that he loves his job and has a great life, and he "still" wants to get his PhD, and teach, and especially write -- if only he had something valuable to say.
This friend wants to make a contribution to the world. He wants his contribution to help others make their contribution to the world. He has an intuitive sense that writing and teaching are his pathways for this. He wants to move this desire from a hidden wish to something that has weight and substance in the world. And, when it comes to naming exactly the contribution he will make, he gets stuck. Because he isn't sure he has found what he is passionate about. Yet, when I talk with him, I feel the strength of his passion like an immense, deep, still pool. So it got me wondering...is he not recognizing the depth of his passion because it doesn't look or feel how he expects it to feel?
Perhaps we expect our passion to always feel like a frisson of excitement -- a grand buzz -- to send us to the heights of energy and enthusiasm to fuel our work. And, sometimes, it is like that.
And, I am finding more and more that our long & deeply held passions are more like a powerfully glowing ember than a crackling spark or raging fire. It can be so quiet that we miss it if we are expecting something else. It is a deep, still sense of knowing...a quietly whispered "Yes" that resonates in a space where sound, and feel, and sight are as one. Shhh...listen very closely...you can almost hear it...the voice of your greatest gift, your genius, your true contribution, whispering your name.
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