Bhakti

“Find your passion.”

“Finding your passion is stupid. Find what you are good at, and do it long enough, and it will become your passion.”

Find something you undisputedly suck at, but for strictly self-loathing reasons, want to continue doing, and then keep doing until you realize you have become so good at being bad at it, you enjoy the freedom of its fuckery, and maybe, you just stupidified your way into a passion. (for anyone who wants to know how this blog got started)

Before social media, you actually had to be good at something to get people’s attention.

Now, what brought you most attention is what you ought to be good at, even if it made you gag every time you did it. Which makes Pornstars the only authentic people left.

So there you have it, passion: economically glamour-filled, existentially gag-inducing, elegiacally giggle-worthy.

But it used to be something more.

And less.

It was Not so much about what you were good at, as much as what you did to go, briefly, beyond the good and the bad. It was Not so much about you and them, as much as an unknown and unknowable.

It’s what you did when you felt great. It’s also what you did when you felt like shit. It’s what you did to remember. It’s what you did to forget.

You didn’t model your passion on your strengths, but on what made you feel strong. And you never went searching for it. You were making eye contact when it winked at you. And when/if it brought you money, you made sure you pissed off everyone who paid. The ones who got the joke stayed. It’s how you built your audience.

Mostly, the province of passion used to be private. You brought it out for celebration. You brought it out for sorrow. For the few times when it wasn’t about You.

It’s never been easier to find your passion. And it’s never been easier to fool yourself. Therefore, this:

The measure of your passion is not your ability to get attention as much as your capacity to expand faith. The path of passion is not a milestone-filled directional dash to a destination.

Passion is a pathless mystery in your drunken dance to the source. Passion is writing a poem and releasing it into the river whence it came.

Passion is devotion, set free.

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