After a lengthy and interesting chat with a friend in the street the other day, he farewelled me by saying “Geez, Trac, you can’t be passionate about everything!” with a rueful shake of his head.
“Yes, I can,” I laughed, as I waved good bye.
I know what he meant. This is a good man; he is passionate about social change, about the environment, about sustainability. He’s just got back from Java, where he stayed with a friend who is working in (another) orphanage in Bali. He gets me, likes me, respects me (I hope!) – so why did he say that?
Because he’s worried what I might be doing to myself.
Isn’t that sad?
Because there is so much to be passionate about, conventional wisdom goes, there is a very real danger of burning yourself out by throwing yourself with the same fervour at every cause or interest. Because finding enough time and energy to beat against walls, rail against injustices and speak about change can sap the strongest amongst us. Because finding the strength to say ‘No, I can’t help with this right now’ is sometimes beyond us.
Because being willing, not just to care, but to try and do something about the things you care about is still a lifestyle choice for most of us. One that is considered to carry certain inherent risks. Like burnout. Like disillusionment. Like failure.
Well, sorry, but I’m playing Devil’s advocate again: I feel we can’t afford to abdicate our duty to care any more.
When Cate invited me to get involved with Project 18 I was thrilled, because it gave me a solid focus for a level of frustration I was trying hard (and failing) to ignore, at the gulf between cultures and countries that exists – is maintained – by critically low standards of education, subjugation of women, and racial and religious intolerance, to generalise most sweepingly.
In other words, and to paraphrase Cate’s most recent post, trying to find some answers for these children and communities makes me happy, and that’s why I do it.
I can find a focus, and act. Pure bliss.
As Maslow says, it’s all about self-actualisation; when I can make things happen for people, I feel fulfilled. Even if my contribution is just the teensiest, tiniest piece of organisation, or promoting the efforts of others, I know that I am taking action, and living my passion, which makes me feel complete. Yes, frankly – it’s Win/win.
But also, and often, it gets personal. Cancer is not my friend. Cancer is no-one’s friend. Cancer took my dad far earlier than I would have wished, eleven years, one week and one day ago.
Cate’s call about Dainere’s sudden downturn galvanised us. When we first spoke about her, several weeks before, there was no question that I would help fulfil the pledge Cate and Ash made to Dainere. I didn’t need my personal passion, nor memories of my father’s illness, to tell me that it was the right thing for us to do. I challenge anyone, but especially a parent, to read Dainere’s story, to read her own words, to place yourself inside her parents’ shoes, and not empathise.
Not everyone would choose to do this, of course. How to balance our lives with our passions? – well, that’s a balancing act I dare say we’ll be working on till we die.
pregnant warrior by dizznbonn CC Flickr
Because for me, for some of us, this is a choice already made. We’ll pick our battles, alright, and then we’ll go out fighting. The wars may be fought on many fronts, and we may need to marshal reserves we don’t have, but we’ll have a damn good crack at it, and go down grinning.
Which is an unlikely warrior metaphor for a person of peace like myself, but seems fitting.
The world needs more people of passion – are you one of them?*
*If you are, please go to that pretty button on the side and help raise more money for Dainere’s Fund. Or sponsor a child in the Project 18 orphanage. Or act on your own passions. Just – act.