Molly settled down in front of a newspaper, a pen wedged in her mouth. "Passion, or pasión in Spanish", said Mia with a flourish as Molly shivered in excitement (she did love it when Mia spoke in foreign languages, it was all so posh), "comes from the Greek verb πασχω meaning to suffer". Molly looked puzzled at the unfamiliar letters, which Mia had traced with her manicured paw on the ground. "How do you pronouce that Greek word?" Mia clicked impatiently, "Who cares, it's Greek to me! All that matters it's an old old word and basically means when you have an intense feeling for something or someone". Molly still looked puzzled "Use it in a sentence". Mia replied
At this reference to my lack of focus, I chose to interrupt. "I like lots of things. And I can't do all of
I always find it interesting how most of us when introduced to new people and asked what we do, always answer with a "I work at XYZ". We are conditioned to see ourselves within the confines of what we do to earn a living. Which is not a bad thing, it's just rather dreary that our jobs seem to define us. When I was once introduced by someone to a new group, he said "She's a storyteller (aka a liar)." Which was an entertaining and a refreshing change from how I would usually answer. It also got me thinking about how several people don't do much else, outside of their work, presumably because they don't have the time. But I find it surprising that people feel that they have to work till they die, not because they necessarily need the money, but because it's difficult to just sit at home. I totally agree...but what does that have to do with a job? There is so much to indulge in beyond our jobs, and to let just that become our life is, to me, a dangerous thing. I spent 4 months last year in between jobs and I had the best time...there is always so much to do and learn...write, read, bake, sing, dance, yoga, travel. You could volunteer, play a sport, or even do something that pays you, not for the money, but because it interests you. I'm blessed
My little internal rant was interrupted by a crash coming from the kitchen. Molly was obviously indulging in her single minded pursuit of smelly trash. As I walked towards the kitchen, ready to shriek at her, I noticed she was sitting by the windowsill, gazing at the moon outside. So that meant? "Mia!", I yelled, glaring at a porky brown backside sticking out of the cupboard. A cheeky whiskered face looked back at me, unapologetic, "You said it's good to have multiple interests, pursue my passion. I'm just trying out Molly's. And why is my origami in the trash?!" I hauled her out of the kitchen, while she yelped about the curtailing of her rights and she was better off on the streets where no one tried to interfere. If I wasn't passionate about these two, I really would have torn my hair out by now!