To climb above the haze of thought into clear understanding, to navigate a true course, to take the highest road, to air out my soul, to breathe freely, to soar. This is my essay. all rights reserved by wingman
Passion must be fed. But how to get the fuel to the flame in the right amount at the right time? Ah, that is the trick. The largest candle will get to the point where, even though there is lots of wax left, it just won’t burn anymore and it usually gets thrown away.
posted by wingman at 6:47 AM
I like anything that flies and most other things that move or move me in three dimensions. I like sports that involve the burning of fossil fuels. I don't like sports that involve balls. I enjoy beauty and make attempts to create some. I am deeply moved by subtlety and symbol. But I also like being a tough, outdoors guy. I adore women but don't understand them. I don't throw stuff away, I fix it. I admire simple and strong design but am often seduced by the complex. I'm a renaissance man wanna-be.
2 Comments:
There are different kinds of passion. Some do not depend on anyone else's behavior but yet burn intensely because there is something way down deep inside that can't help but burst forth and throw warmth on others. Keep burning, baby.
Indeed. And thank God for the variety. It may well be that which wells up from deep inside and has to get out has the most value to those around us. It could be gifts God has put there for us to stir up and pour out as blessing on others. But that activity is a birthing and the labor, though satisfying, is draining. The passion that comes from interacting with and responding to those in my world brings comfort and nourishment of soul. Thank you for the heat that helps to melt my wax.
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