I used to know a family who had a retriever. They had a contraption on the deck to launch balls into the back yard. She would gladly chase a ball until her heart exploded. She was totally in love with chasing and retrieving a ball. It was her purpose in life.
I always wanted to have something like that.
There are things I love to do. A lot of things. Things with words. Things with singing. Things with yarn. Nothing that consumes me like that, though.
On second thought, I wake up to write at 4 am. Maybe I am wrong about not being passionate about anything. I wouldn’t write until my heart exploded though.
Perhaps that’s for the best.
Plus, if my heart was going to explode from writing, I’d want to have written something a whole lot better.