As I was cooking, which is very enjoyable and relaxing to me, I remembered a story about a man who came out of a successful surgery, but didn’t want to take painkillers.  He said that he wanted to be able to feel.  Feeling the pain reminded him that he was alive.  This is what passion does.  It reminds us that we are alive.

So many adults don’t feel the passion of youth.  There have been too many hurts, too much loss, too many deaths.  Intense and repeated trauma can negatively affect daily life.  I chose to shut down that intense part of myself, believing that the pain matching the joy was just too much.  I would rather not have that much joy.

But I miss my passion and excitement.  I miss the feeling of totally letting myself go without fear, worry, or inhibition.  Not caring what people think.  I miss the joy of being free!  To me, that is the epitome of being alive.  Perhaps that’s why I became a human being – to feel.

When I was young, I became passionate about external things: jogging, skating, being in love, my job, civil and human rights, traveling.  Perhaps because of the drama and trauma that I have been through, I now want to be passionately in love with me, with the Magnificence that is me.  I want to be in love with Love itself, with being loving.

Looking back, I see how I have grown as a result of the pain in my life.  I now view my current situation as a mechanism for developing awareness.  While I most certainly desire more financial stability, I am so very blessed to have time to sit in silence and to engage in joyful activities that allow me to reflect, read, and write.  If my circumstances were different, I would not have time to be still, to seek knowledge, and to grow.  If I was working a traditional 9 to 6 with the additional commute, I would be running around on weekends doing what I couldn’t do during the week.  If I had roommates, I would be interacting with them and the consequences of their lives.

I know that the Universe has responded and is responding to my desire to transform myself.  The crises that I have experienced are part of the process of creating the me that I want to be.  That’s why I am inspired to meditate, read certain books, and listen to music and sermons.  That’s why people come into or leave my life.  It’s all a process by which I am encouraged, inspired, pushed to change, even against my own will.

I thought of my worker bee years.  But for my dark times, I would probably still be at my last job, not moving towards my destiny.  Most likely, I would be still complaining and spending my money on therapy.  I would probably be debt-free, but at what price?  My health, my peace of mind, my joy, feeling unvalued every single day, and not producing anything that reflected my potential.

Yes, I see that the years of perceived darkness strengthened me, increased my awareness, elevated my consciousness, and showed me where I needed refinement.  My challenges are like spotlights that expose dents and creases.  I will not be able to smooth out my rough edges if I continue to do what I’ve always done.

The dark clouds of my life have been precursors to goodness.  Instead of curses, the hardships are signs that I am progressing.  I am not stagnant.  I am expanding, about to give birth to something great.

As I drive around, I try to think as a child riding with a parent, looking out of the window with wonder at everything that is going on.  I recall how it feels to simply enjoy being out and about.  As I zoom down a hill on my bike, I remember the days when I used to skate with complete abandon at the tail end of a bunch of guys, rolling fearlessly fast around the rink, exhilarated, knowing that, at any moment, I could fall at top speed, but deciding without thought that the intense fun was worth any risk.

I remember those days.  I remember my passion.  I re-ignite that flame and come alive.  Again.