Passion.  But what does that REALLY mean?  I’ve thought about this a lot over the years, and more recently, over the past few weeks, specifically discussing the generic topic multiple times.  But the other night, on my “Happy 5 o’clock” phone call to my mom, the revelation hit me like a ton of bricks.  Why was I so passionate about something?  What backstory/circumstances led me to this point of happiness and total love for my “job?”  And why was I sticking with something this long?  I mean after all, I get bored with a chocolate chip cookie after 2 bites!

Then I started thinking of why we all fall into this “rut” of frustration and doubt.  I am a human too, I have these emotions quite often.  I experience the challenges alongside what I do on a daily basis.  And let me tell you, the voice in my head likes to be loud and talk a lot.  And that little voice definitely wants me to feel defeated, and overwhelmed, ESPECIALLY when I don’t meet my goals.  Does any of this sound familiar?  We submit to this voice, and let the voice just rule our outlook for tomorrow, and next week/month.

I experience challenges, self-doubt, and frustration often.  But why should I let that stop me?

The frustration just makes me lose sight of why I started in the first place.  I started because I had an excitement, a passion for something.  I have always gotten an adrenaline rush when Sunday nights come around, because waking up Monday morning with freshly minted manicures are just a little brighter than the work week ahead.  I have strong deep roots with this Sunday night routine.  For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been winding down with a cup of tea and all the tools, sitting down to binge on a guilty pleasure TV show.  (Desperate Housewives!)

But by Wednesday, when the manicure is old news, the frustration begins to creep back in, which leads to doubt for the rest of the week.  I lose confidence in my decisions, in where and how I am working, and lose sight of my passion.  I don’t want to continue with the work, and I am always looking for a reason to quit.  Because I’m NOT ever prepared with the tools necessary to successfully “network” and the idea of “networking” or even “talking to strangers frightens me.  So I shy away and let that voice of doubt get to me.

Don’t let your fear stop you from making waves.

Friday rolls around, and I’ve been creating avoidance tasks for myself for the upcoming weekend.  Instead of taking 2 hours to work, I’d rather do laundry, or unload the dishwasher.  Take a longer-ish walk, even do whatever I could to find ways to NOT be successful.  I would rather live under the “Sorry. Can’t.  Too Busy.” -guise than even try to work towards my monthly goal.  So the weekend gets the best of me.  I even begin to panic starting right after church on Sunday morning, full knowing that this is a new week ahead and to definitely work harder.

The emotional cycle begins again Sunday night when I am doing my nails yet again.  And of course, while I am doing my nails, I’m re-reminded of the passion I had all those Sunday nights, when I’d have to wait until the tacky feeling went away, and finally go to bed.  I love the self-care, the time to myself, the meditative state I get in when it’s just me, my mini heater and the wraps.  The passion reignites why I started in the first place, and I feel absolutely fearless.  And I have to wake up with excitement and re-commitment.

 

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