Passion.
It’s a funny concept. Passion, calling, gift, vocation . . . over-used,
lackluster terms nearing a drought of meaning. Calling and gift smack of
evangelical necessities.
Vocation may
follow in suit.
Passion?
Passion is intense.
Left with
passion and vocation, I judge one intense and the other stoic.
‘Tis my vocation . . . Serious business.
What is your passion? Extroverted
interrogation to find the inner key to a happy, successful, meaningful life.
Passion. My passion? Passion. Compassion.
I get that.
Passion.
Phooey. Vocation. Phbt. Life?
Life without
either, oh probably slow and unfulfilling. Bugging about disinterested and
tired.
With? Don’t ask
me; I don’t know.
Do you like
green eggs and ham?
Yep, that’s
what I hear when asked for a passion presumably packaged in my pocket.
No. I do not
like green eggs and ham.
I do not like them, Sam I am.
What if the ham and eggs were a different color ?
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