Finding My Passion

Summer, 2002, I had an 8 month old daughter and two boys -- a 2 and 6 year old. I was able to stay home with them and found my days filled with going to different parks, listening to the frightening exclamations of Teletubbies -- and I never could figure out exactly what they were -- and play dates. The passion question still entered my mind. I mean, what was mine? What was something I couldn't wait to do and was my own thing? Okay so I love to eat -- couldn't count that really. Running -- love that and yeah, I'm somewhat passionate about it, but it's kind of the counterbalance to my love for delicious food. Yes I loved being a mom, but what was something that was totally my own thing? That didn't relate to me being just a mommy, but more the whole person that incorporated my past and future goals too. Occasionally, I'd tutor a neighbor on algebra or help a friend do some basic statistical analysis for school -- but basically I felt my brain turning to mush, and changing diapers and then the thought of doing math wasn't exactly a thrilling sounding outlet to me. Was math my passion? Especially if Passion was defined as something that is totally your own. No math was my stability to my brain, not my passion. So I let the question quietly slip away, content with my life -- cause I really was content. I didn't need this burning question constantly prodding me. So I let it die.

And then the Autumn came, and with that a wonderful visit from my sister. My sister and I were best friends, only being 16 months apart, and we had anticipated this trip for a while. She had 4 small children of her own and we both lived far apart; she in Canada and me in the States. This was a celebratory trip for us as she'd been ill and now seemed better. We hiked, ate-out, shopped -- all the things that we'd always done together growing up. When she left, I had great memories to treasure. I reflected on how lucky I was to be so close to my sister and that, I believe, was where my passion was ignited. A couple of weeks after she'd left I sat at my computer, thinking I was going to make a journal entry and then instead I just started to write a story about sisters. It wasn't our story, but instead incorporated so many feelings of my own life with fictional drama (after all that was so much more fun). Somehow I wanted to capture a sister relationship, to make it timeless in a concrete way. It incorporated who I was -- my observations, my emotions, and my overactive imagination -- and also provided the creative outlet I apparently needed in my life. But this was only the beginning.