identifying our passion

After a confronting late shift in a busy emergency department about a month ago, I came home in the early hours of the morning feeling unsure of myself. I felt dejected and empty, frustrated and annoyed, and was even starting to feel resentful. I started questioning my current day-to-day vocation, my suitability for it, the way I engage my emotions, the way I harness my creativity, my belief in pragmatism, the outliving of my faith, etc etc. (One a.m. is generally never a good time to analyse oneself in too much detail.) Questions bombarded me, such as: do I enjoy what I am doing, am I good at what I am doing, is what I am doing meaningful, and am I doing what I am supposed to be doing? I recognised these thoughts as recurrent patterns and traits in myself that raise their heads more prominently on some days than on others.

I started questioning the fundamentals of my personality, character and past decision-making, trying to summarise my life into a simplistic, unrelated chain of events. It went something like, 'what type of person leaves school three months into their final year, works in a market research company, sails around the world for two years, studies English literature four four years, then goes to medical school for five years, then gets tired of where he's living and working, then has a baby and moves 12,000 miles away, then realises he is not as passionate about the specialty he's working in as much as he thought he was, so considers applying for something else?'

At some point in the not-too-distant past I would have chosen to wallow in a negative interpretation of my personality that led to this seemingly wandering, meandering, haphazard life: fickle, unstable, lack of persistence, lack of discipline, escapist. I wouldn't have recognised and remembered the positive motivations I had for each of these life decisions. Essentially I was fearful that I had not identified my passion, and that this lack of identification was leaving me in a position where I was spending my time doing something which was taking more from me than it should. Now, I realise that this path has been a process of me discovering what my passion is. It's a combination of guidance, blessing, fortuitous meetings, some brave choices, and an openness to new experiences.

Thinking about what makes our daily existence 'meaningful' is subjective and changes over the course of our lives as we mature through experience; new relationships, challenges, losses, faith and victories all constantly redefine our priorities and understanding of ourselves. I am learning that being thankful can, in itself, sometimes bypass the question of meaningfulness. Living mindfully and thankfully can help us identify our passion; thankful people are happy people, and we are probably most happy when we are doing what we are made to do, which we become aware of as we give thanks for it.

Questions of worth and meaning and utility are often prompted by significant life events - birth, death, loss of a lover or a job, a significant journey. I reflected on my own journey (much like a contestant in X-Factor or Dancing with the Stars) over the past couple of years: birth of a child, emigration, new job, new culture, new friends, loss of the familiar, etc etc - and I felt slightly more justified in feeling that this period in my life should, rather healthily, throw up questions of significance. For these decisions were made to pursue what I believe is my passion; so am I still staying true to that?

I am in the process of making some big-ish decisions regarding my career and creative aspirations as I further realise and pursue what my passion(s) is (are). They are at once exciting, challenging, naturally scary, and riddled with potential joy, failure, disappointment and unexpected goodness. I am balancing maintaining these goals and moving towards them, and yet practicing being present where I currently am. I don't want to sacrifice the here-and-now for the sake of an ever-distant future.

So, to maintain the short- and long-term goal of living the simple life, my existential questions are calmed by thankfulness for the following:

a solitary walk on the beach
freshly baked bread
watching Play School with my daughter
a cold to make me thankful for my usual health
collecting shells
praying
writing
a new exercise regime
exploring new career opportunities
talking with my wife
sharing food with friends
forcing myself to be open and vulnerable
blogging

Wishing you joy and peace as you create the path to your passion.

Empty vessel.

You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.