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The Passionate Life

January 20, 2011

Julie Anne Morley - maybe 16-years-old

I told my husband that I would be sequestering myself while I write the final scenes of Pacheco Falls and then begin the first rewrite.  I have a mission, a deadline, a self-imposed hammer that will drop.  My passion for this project grips me and it will until it is done and then?  A new passion will horn in, some seedling in my heart, brain and soul will find the right conditions to sprout.

In a conversation with Eva, who just turned 22 yesterday, we discussed a person’s life work as opposed to life’s work.  How do you know what it is, she wondered.  Good question grasshopper.  At this point in my life it seems so easy to say, obviously, for me it is to write.  But when I put myself in her shoes, go back to age 22, what I remember is a string of passions that ruled my thoughts and actions, included in this string the desire to be a mother. 

My daughters have the forture of inheriting their mother’s intensity about love.  I say fortune because I am past the stage of trying to figure it all out, find the right mate, whether or not to find a mate, study science, study philosophy…    Thinking back to when I was in that turmoil,  when my thoughts and feelings  were strong surges that could rule my world, I realize how much I would step back from my personal passion at critical moments, times of verging on possible triumph.  I am the queen of the long bumpy road, not only in goals such as finally becoming a writer, but also in my choices.  I like to run long distances on small mottled trails that wind through the forest.  I like to ride horses off the trail and figure out how to get to the top of a mountain.  I chose a type of yoga that is long, sweaty and grueling.  I have a complicated, sensitive husband who’s gifts are as plentiful as they are, let’s see, growth inducing. 

My beloved Tim Morley

 

So here is my conclusion; the answer to the question of how to find one’s life work must be a verb.  The answer must grow and change, be elastic yet strong.  Given this, why not make a stab at something, will all the passion available.  Perhaps it is the passion in the doing of something that is the point, the way that energy feeds itself and our lives therefore bloom up with purpose, with meaning.

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