High on Happiness

Posts Tagged ‘Passion’

Passion pulsates through the field.  Everything is focused on tomorrow.  Not the immediate tomorrow that will come with the next rising of the sun, although they dream of that, too.

No, their longing is for something greater and more abstract, something waiting in the mists of future time to find its fulfillment.   They dream, the trees, the seeding grasses, the flowering goldenrod,  about pushing form past its constraints, giving birth to unrealized potentials.

They dream, as we do, of their children’s children and the ones that will come after them, and after them, the ones who will bring undreamed of wonders into the world.

That is their reason for being.  To be vehicles that carry us into dazzling tomorrows, where men will walk as gods and the earth reflect Paradise, and sing with the triumph of love and light and joy.

September slipped quietly in the door, bringing rain.  Under its cover, she gazed about at the canvas before her and sized up the work ahead.

The scene that August had left behind was glowing, a true masterpiece with treasures tucked in every corner.   She let her eyes rove over it slowly, savoring the forms and textures and depth.   Every bit of it held exquisite works, art within art within art.   August had set the bar high.

Yet look!  How beautifully she prepared the way for the transformation September was charged to create, with the tiny dabs of yellow and red tucked among the green leaves, and some of them already fallen and floating on the lake.  It was perfect.

The task ahead of her was a challenge.  It would use every ounce of her passion.  And that was exactly what she loved most.

She opened her pallet and took out her brushes and paints.  Then, with a grand and eager smile, she turned off the rain, rolled up her sleeves, grabbed a brush and began.

There’s nothing shy about summer, no sir.  Summer is serious fervor, man.  She’s giving it all she’s got, pouring it on.  There’s no half way for her.

She’s pumping out the juice, turning up the color, playing her jazz with a downright holy zeal.  She’s blazing her heat and rolling her thunder and there’s absolutely nowhere you can hide.

She’s all about life, spitting it out, raising it to fullness, seeing that it carries on.  Even her dreamy days are lush and rich with passion.  They catch you in their spell and just won’t let you go.

She’ll test your metal, brother, see what kind of stamina you’ve got.  You have to be worthy, you know, to take that kind of loving.

Spring was in deep ecstasy now, completely surrendered to her love of color.  She dipped into the farthest edges of her palette and swept the flowers with exotic combinations of hues.

The plants were fully rooted, the days stretching toward their full length.  The intensity of spring’s passion was a perfect prelude for the coming heat of summer, and all the world reveled in her flaming delight.

It was all part of the grand plan, of course.  Her blazing enthusiasm was meant to be.  And because she gave herself to the great Yes with such fervor and such ardent affection, her part of the plan was clearly revealed to her as unquenchable desire, and she followed its call with rapture and untold joy.

Once it sees the light of day, there’s no stopping a dream.   Throw at it what you will; it’s going to have its way.  It has a purpose.  It has a plan.  It’s adaptable, flexible, elastic.  And it’s going to change everything.

It doesn’t matter a hoot that the landscape is barren and strewn with yesterday’s lifeless shells.  Dreams only see the possibilities: what can be; what will be.  And their passion pulls them forward into the realities that they, in their irrepressible joy, will create.

Their gladness shouts to the universe, and the universe responds, matching their joy with its own.  It sends light, and warmth, and rain.  It sends singing birds to cheer the dreams on.  Everything they need is given.

“Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it,” counseled Goethe. “Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.  Begin it now.”

The daffodils know.  And they reach with irrepressible joy toward the light.

For all life’s unexpected turns, it’s patches of shade and shadow, its dips into deep valleys and challenging climbs back to the light, isn’t it, still, such a lovely, winding road?

For all its unwanted goodbyes, and nights of fear-filled darkness, its frozen winters and days of endless rain, isn’t it, still, such a matchless journey?

Think of the eyes that look into your own with love.  Think of touching a baby’s toes.  Think of watching a sunrise, of hearing a child’s laugh.

Think of the fragrance of lavender, the texture of velvet, the sound of waves lapping on the shore.

Think of fat clouds in a blue sky, heaped taller than mountains.  Think of mountains and forests and deserts and seas.

Think of your childhood and all you have done since then.  Think what it will be like, looking back on today when you’ve traveled twenty more years.  Think what your face will look like when you’re eighty.

Think of the fun you have had, the work you have done, the friends you have made, the places you’ve seen.  Think of all the music you know, the stories you have heard, the books you have read, the games you have played, the arts you’ve enjoyed, the teams you have cheered.

Think of the warmth of sunlight on your skin on an early spring day, of a sky full of stars and air full of song.  Think of the fragrance of freshly mown grass and of lilacs and of the ocean.

Think of walruses and penguins, of butterflies and kangaroos.  Think about a camera flying light years into space to send you postcards from the nebulae and galaxies.

Think of all thoughts you have thought, the facts you have learned, the puzzles you have solved.  Think of all the questions that have never been answered and never will be.  Think of all the dreams you have dreamed and of those that still wait for you to make them come true.

Think of all the emotions that have coursed through your soul, the passions and the longing, the hilarity and the peace.  Think how your lungs have breathed so much air, how your heart has pumped whole rivers of blood through your veins.  Think how wondrous ears are, and eyelids.

Think of all the people you have touched and loved and who have loved and touched you.

Oh yes.  For all its dips and shadows, isn’t it, still, such a lovely, winding road?

So easily she sank into her mission.  It was all she wanted to do.  It was everything.  And yet, despite the intensity of its fire with its flames leaping skyward, or maybe because of them, she moved with utmost grace across the moments of her day.

She knew her purpose.  She had no doubts.  Her path was clear.  And even though it stretched far into the future and was shrouded in mists, she had absolute faith that it would take her to her destination.

She knew there would be obstacles and detours.  Life, after all, was full of adventures to test your resolve and challenge your ingenuity.  But she welcomed the tests, knowing they would only make her stronger and generate better ideas.  And so she met life’s surprises with openness, eager to discover what gifts they held.

From time to time, the seeming setbacks were daunting.  It took all the grit she had to remember that they, too, were a part of the path.  Sometimes she would grow weary and her faith in her purpose would falter and grow dim.  Shapes would emerge from the darkness and taunt her, telling her she was a fool, asking her who she thought she was to pursue such grandiose notions, pointing out to her that she was hopelessly lost.

But when she really thought about who she was, when she thought about what defined her, the glow of her passion would burst once more into flame.  “I am she who pursues her own dreams,” she would cry to the shapes.  And even before the words left her mouth, the shapes would vanish into the night, and the way grow clear once more to her eyes.  And she would rise, confident and at peace, and continue on.

The farther down the path she journeyed, the brighter it became.  She rejoiced in its beauty and the vistas it offered as she climbed.  Companions came to join her, and to offer her encouragement and aid.  And her heart was grateful and glad.

With every step she took, she grew stronger and more joyful.  Life’s challenges still appeared; the road still had its twists and turns.  But the song in her heart was melodious and clear, and she met all that appeared before her with ease.

One day, as she turned a bend, she found herself exactly where she had always dreamed she would be.  This was it, the destination she had been pursuing all this long time.  She let the beauty of it envelope her and sink deeply into her being, and she felt herself fill with gratitude and awe.  She lingered in the dream’s embrace for awhile, reveling in the fact that it was finally real, and lived it until she was satisfied down to her core, exploring its nuances and depths.

One evening several months later, just as the sun was setting, a peculiar beam of light illuminated a distant rise.  As she studied it, sensing that it had meaning and feeling its call, she saw that a path wound its way through the forest in its direction and felt a fiery glow spark to life within her.

Laughing, she returned home and packed her knapsack with keepsakes and tools.  And when morning came, she set out, walking with passion and ease.

Whatever is heavy, drop it.  Slash whatever rope keeps you tethered–sorrow, dread, worry, anger, shyness, fear, despair–to anything less than passion, than joy, than absolute exultation, and soar.  They’re all illusions; let them go.

Soar into the exquisite, mind-blowing, spirit-freeing, gusty, lusty liberation of the magnificent, one-of-a-kind, unparalleled, glorious moment until you think you’ll burst with joy.

Just for the minute of now, just for the blink of your eye, imagine yourself boundless, unbridled, possessing all, expanding.

Feel the eternity of tomorrows dancing through your veins, and all the yesterdays that ever were singing in your flesh.

Lose yourself in tenderness.
Chant the songs of the Grand Yes.
Be!
Breathe!
Soar!

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Grab that something that grabs your mind, that something that makes you lose all track of time and forget everything else in the world.  Open up the biggest space for it that you can make and then climb right inside it and ride it for all its worth.

Feel the tension of its delicious challenges pulling out your skills, teasing you to push just a little bit farther, to stretch just a little bit more.  Catch how it rivets your attention, how it dares you to cross your limit lines and dive into your genius zone headlong.

Watch how it plays with you, teasing out your best, your most inventive and determined.

And when you are done with it, revel in the pride and satisfaction of all that you wrought while under its spell.

That’s flow, man.  That’s riding your passion.  Work, hobby, play, it doesn’t matter.  It’s whatever really turns you on, whatever really turns you into one focused, red hot performer, baby.  Get you some.