“I quit! I don’t want to do this. I’ve had enough!” are phrases I’m very familiar with. Throughout my life I’ve had many successes, and even more “incompletes.” Over the course of my life, it seems the older I get the less willing I am to be “uncomfortable.” One of the main problems is I’m often able to identify the discomfort in a circumstance and not the passion. Am I broken? Not at all…

Maybe I simply view passion as something surreal that can’t be grasped during daily monotonous tasks.

Maybe I define passion as a rocket-fueled flurry of emotions that can’t be bottled up and placed in one category like; student, tax collector, daughter.

Maybe I believe passion is so powerful that it must be finite. After all, the brightest flame must die out at some point, right? But what happens if it does die out? Is its absence a noticeable void or can another passion occupy that space?

As I continue on my journey of self-joy coupled with self-love I’m faced with a question that has presented itself more times than I care to admit…

To be or not to be?????