Passionate
Location
Every year, teachers ask me at school:
What am I passionate about?
I sit and ponder, unsure of whether I should give the easy answer,
or if I should go with the hard one.
The easy answer? I'm passionate about
friends. school. books. reading. and art.
The hard answer, though, lies within these easily skirted around subjects.
The hard answer shows that I am passionate about
life itself.
Life in all its qualms and quails, life within
the four walls of my house. Life within the expression
of a word or a thought. life within
the canvas of an artist's hand. life is full of
wonders and mysteries, ready to explore, ready to wake.
life.
Why is this a hard answer? is it because
it is not easily accepted as something to be passionate about?
Perhaps. Or
perhaps it is because life is such a vague and broad term, broader than any of the
simple subjects I tried to explain before.
Life includes everything; material and emotional worth, and
these are things to feel strongly for.
Passionate about the way people live, the way they die, the way raindrops feel
on a freshly mowed lawn. I'm passionate about the smell
of nailpolish, and the way it drips when held up. I have a passion for
looking at the different handwritings of my peers,
analysing the way their hands loop the L and connect the arches of the M.
Passion is for sniffing roses, despite the lack of a strong smell.
Passion is about lighting up when you get a new book, or the floppy emotion your heart gets
when your crush texts you. Passion
lives in life, and it is impossible to narrow such an affinity for life down to
a few simple subjects.
So, teacher, let me ask you.
Is it possible to choose a singular passion
when there is so
much more to love than
just
one
thing?