When is it okay to give up on something? Do we need to wait until the very last part of our first love for it is gone? Do we have to wait until we give ourselves permission or does it have to come from somewhere else? I’m not talking about the small things like what used to be your favorite tv show or favorite shoes. What I’m talking about are things like where you live or where you work or who you’re with? What is the turning point that you wait for that seems to give your inner self permission to make the change?
I’ll be honest, I’m sick of two of those things right now and I don’t have anyone that I’m “with” so you can make the deduction. I know just with common sense that you don’t leave your job without having another one lined up. But let me ask, how do you find the job that you are meant for? The job that doesn’t feel like a job and makes you happy, where do you look for that one. Some would say that I have to know what my passion is, but to me, that is hard because I’ve never lived for myself before. So how does someone that doesn’t really know themselves find the time and money to explore and finally “find themselves”?
It would take money to move and money comes from working so the job would be pushed to the forefront of my decision making. So that tells me one part of the turning point, maybe it comes in line depending on the need or importance? I would need to find what makes me happy in order to know what “job” I would not want to hate having. I know some basic things that I like and I know what I used to like before taking over responsibilities. I love people, I’m not a face to face person right now but more of a conversation person on the phone or in chat or email. I love getting to know the differences and hearing the different dialect that everyone has. Writing was a big passion of mine before as was music. I can’t play any instruments but the words and sounds always took away what I was feeling that day. I could name any song title and who sang it. My sister always thought I would be a DJ back then and I secretly wished she was right sometimes.
Words always inspired me and felt as though they gave me power. Power not in the sense of a superhero but that of expressing what was inside of me. It was more lyrical writing is what I think of it. When someone writes a poem and it rhymes, to me that’s like music so I think of it as lyrical. It was a dream back then to write the words for someone’s music. There are still times that the feeling to write comes over me but I have to set it aside in order to get things done. Maybe I’m staring at my passion and just don’t know it.
How does someone know that they’ve found their passion? I’m still searching for this answer, I just don’t know right now.