I was thinking the other day, wondering if I was passionate enough about what I do. Was i as passionate as the guy in the LA soda shop video? And I began thinking about what passion really is. What is passion?
It’s hard not to immediately think of Italy and things Italian when talking of passion, isn’t it. How did they corner the market on passion? By exhibiting the stereotypical external characteristics of the passionate: being fiery and temperamental. And mercurial and emotional. And operatic. And loud. And combative. But is that passion? Sounds like they’re just being Italian to me. Winking smiley face.
Being Irish, and therefore the opposite of Italian, I seek a new definition.
I think passion is just another word for a relentless drive for quality. I think passion is innate. You don’t suddenly get it. And you can’t control it. It controls you.
I’m going to mention Steve Jobs now. There, I just did. I have worked with some people for whom the adjective “passionate” was frequently applied. And they never struck me as passionate. Just obsessed. Like I was. I think the passionate/obsessed seek each other out. Because another word for obsessed is mad.
I can readily imagine a penniless and heavily bearded and really-in-need-of-a -shower bizarro Steve Jobs living in a wooden cabin deep, deep in the woods somewhere surrounded by fully functional wooden-bodied working models of all his inventions thus far.
By day he scrawls his now 20,000 page plus manifesto. By night he carves and solders.