‘Passion’ is my favorite word in the English language.
I won’t cite a Webster definition. You all know what passion means. So, why am I writing a post about the meaning of passion? Blame CBTL for that. I read a passage from my 2016 journal and there came the thought.
I fell in love with the word when I was still a college student. Mix intelligence with angst and put a dash of smart mouth and you get yourself a teen that defends everything that he or she thinks was right. That was basically me.
I would prove my point in debates with others to the extent that I sound angry. I would always excuse myself and say that I was not angry and was just passionate about the idea. It was not that I was forcing people to believe me and support my cause. I was more in the context of making them understand what I was coming from.
I pride myself in having a strong set of morals. I cannot be bought easily. I try my utmost to keep my promises and admit my failure if I did otherwise. I do things on my own. I keep quiet about my achievements. I do not gossip. Do not waste. Family comes first. Those are my unbreakables.
I recall a time when my Management professor asked me if I would seal a deal with a potential business partner which will greatly benefit my business in the long run if I change things according to what they wanted. I remember answering that if it does not stand with my business ethics and morals then I would agree. I was then questioned for sacrificing the sake of my business for a set of morals. I stood my ground. I told him that I would not be bought that easily and I would not sacrifice my loyalties. He called me too young and too idealistic. I was bound to change my mind when I get older and when I get to see how the real world outside the classroom works.
Four years later, I saw how ugly business life could be. I saw what the real world outside the classroom was like. My answer still does not change. Call me too young and too idealistic all you want. I call myself passionate.
I had a male friend who would translate the Filipino word ‘malibog’ into ‘passionate’. As much as I deny to admit, it made some sense but being passionate is more than that. FYI, ‘malibog’ means being erotically-inclined e.g. spilling out green jokes, being all touchy and grope-y, have an interest in anything sexually related blah blah blah.
There is a reason after all why most authors would describe erotic scenes with phrases like ‘and they fell into their incessant passion, a mix of sweat and gasps muffled by flesh and sheets.’ (my words, btw. It is just an example.) Passion is the subject wherein all logic is lost and wherein sense and instinct come in. Obviously, the connection is there.
For me, passion is more. It is so much more. Being passionate comprises the entirety of one’s being. Be passionate about something and all logic flies out of the window. You don’t realize that it happens until your logic comes back through the door and collides with you like a punch to the brain. Yeap, not the skull, the brain.
Ever felt about something so strong that you would do your utmost to keep it and protect it? Ever felt that your purpose was finally discovered and you would be damned if you just ignore it and walk on as if nothing happened? Ever felt the realization that you would be sacrificing much for something and yet you do it anyway? Ever felt so strongly for something that you would make sure that you achieve it or see your goal accomplished no matter what?
This is not only about love. This is not only about hate. Remember the thin line between those two? That thin line is called passion. Love someone so much that one mistake can send you plummeting back onto solid ground with nothing but resentment. Hate someone so much that you will do much to destroy that person and make sure he is yours. The thin line is a dangerous thing. Cross over and all you know disappears. Things like this can only be found in stories. But is it not reality a story?
Passion keeps you driving to your destination. Passion fuels your body to continue to work. Passion is that nagging feeling that burns in your gut when you do otherwise.
Being passionate is losing regard of your rationality and just relying on your instinct. Once it knows what it wants, it hires rationality back in to help him do its dirty work which is to keep you moving.
I barely make any sense. As I reread this post, I could easily see how my thoughts are scrambled as I try to say everything at once. I guess that is what passion does. It tries everything to get you across.
Passion is my favorite word because it describes me as a person. My pride has saved me countless of times wherein I would make wise and firm decisions just because ‘my pride would not allow myself to do it otherwise’. This is not ‘sin’ pride. This is ‘moral’ pride. It is the offspring of my passion and my sense of morality. Good with a pinch of danger. I sound like a misguided comic book hero.
Once I believe, my intentions would not falter. I would fight to the end. That is passion.