This past week I’ve been struggling. Struggling to stay focused and not to be waylaid by worry. And the source of my worry? My relationship. The one with my unreliable partner. Passion.

Not the passion of young love, which was notoriously predictable in how it burned hot and then went cold, signaling (at least in 6^th grade Sherman, Texas) that it was time to give Billy his ID bracelet back and hope that Mark would soon be asking me to wear his. No, this adult passion was the sign that I had chosen my life’s work wisely, that I was operating in alignment with my highest purpose, that all was right with the world.

My craving for passion, my belief that I needed it to fuel my life’s mission, had me trying to conjure it like a magician with all kinds of rituals from mantras to sage sticks to vision boards. And like a fickle lover, sometimes it would show up and sometimes not.

When we were together, I felt fully alive and capable. When we were apart, I felt lonely and forlorn. Of course, that’s when my old friend, Debbie Doubter, showed up. Pointing out what seemed so obvious to her. “Well, if you don’t have passion, this isn’t what you are meant to be doing…this must not matter…it can’t be that important…”

But funny about this mindfulness stuff. Once you start practicing, it permeates everything. In my most recent class on joy, we had discussed how it springs up in these exquisitely ordinary moments, how we can open our awareness and then, as the poet William Blake says, “Kiss the joy as it flies by.” I suddenly realized it’s the same with passion. And I had been abusing it! Placing unrealistic demands on it, and, when it did show up, holding it in what became a death grip. No wonder it didn’t want to show up very often or stay very long.

I also realized I had been holding on to the belief that, if I had found the “right” life purpose, then passion should exist in a constant state. And something was “wrong” if it didn’t. In an instant, I felt flooded by relief, and then joy. Nothing was wrong! Passion, that heightened state of emotion and conviction, wasn’t meant to be a steady bedfellow but a periodic playmate.

With this new awareness, I find myself feeling much less worry and much more peace. I’m noticing that passion likes to playfully sneak up on me, have some fun, and then go home for a while. We’re both free to have a much healthier relationship.

Here’s hoping you find the playfulness of your passion!