It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#13 - You kill off other, genuine interests in order to pursue your dream.

I think we Boomer types were sold a bill of goods when we were growing up. "You can be whatever you want," we were told. The subtext was "pick one thing to be and work at it as hard as you can."

The trouble is, I was always (and still am) interested in so many things.

Space. Classical music. Quantum theory (for the lay person). Science. Art. Bicycling. Mountains. Greek and Roman history. Interpersonal relationships. A great summer's day. And so many others.

Movies and theater are in there too. But not to the extent that they cancel out all the others. And so, I was confused for a long time, thinking I needed to spend more time on one thing, instead of allowing myself to pick and choose from among many.

This is especially true for someone like me, who isn't a prodigy in anything. I think the prodigies (the Spielbergs, Stephen Kings, and others who excel at one thing) have been held up too long as the benchmark. "Be like them," we've been led to believe.

When the real message should be "be like you."

[pictured: David finally meets the Blue Fairy who can grant him his wish in Spielberg's AI: Artificial Intelligence.]

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#12 - You're finely crafting in an arena that calls for quickfastandinahurry.

My "career" in writing drama has always frustrated me in one aspect - I'm neither a fast nor a prolific writer. It took me a long, long time to make characters and plot work together, not to mention dialogue and description. Sometimes months would go by while I labored over the same tired scene, and then one day I'd get slammed with a burst of brilliance on how to make it work. This type of crafting works rather well in the theatre world. But in screenwriting? You need to have multiple scripts tossed around at any single time - and even then you'll probably get a "pass" (i.e., not interested) on each one. So you have to go back and churn out more. Trouble is, I'm just not that kind of writer, and I will never be.

Even though I've "technically" given up on screenwriting - or to put it more positively, I'm exploring the zillion other options I'm interested in - I still play with ideas in my head. Like the superhero outfit that takes the wearer's body and transforms it to finely-tuned muscularity - but only in the wearer's eyes. So while this idea fascinates me, I know it would probably be another two years before I get anything down on paper that I would trust showing to anyone. I'm just not the quickfastandinahurry kind of craftsman!

Read the other posts in this series...

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#11 - Your passion’s in a field where there’s a huge gap between amateur and professional – and you won’t be happy until you ascend to the very top.

I’m not talking about neurosurgery here. Or the always-identified “rocket science.”

I’m speaking about Olympic downhill skiing, Broadway musical composing, WWE wrestling, and other endeavors that take a certain type of talent, years of learning, body type and/or physical expertise.

The key here is knowing where you’re going to be happy. If your passion means that you’d be blissful just being associated with these types of areas, then by all means go for it. Flexibility will get you far.

But if you’re betting the farm on scaling the heights, and disregarding anything else until you reach it (or don’t), then maybe it’s the wrong mountain to climb.

Trouble is, we’re bombarded with images and stories every day of the “everyman/everywoman” who labors in a non-glam career, then makes it through The Labyrinth and is acclaimed the “next American Idol.”

Realistically, we have better chances of being struck by lightning.

I’m not dissing anyone’s dreams here. Dreams are important. They’re motivating. Sometimes they can get us through a particularly awful day. They even come true.

I’m saying that there’s bliss in being “amateur,” if you get “professional” right.

For an explanation of what I mean by that, I invite you to read screenwriter John August’s incredible post “Professional Writing and the Rise of the Amateur.” He explains it and is entertaining at the same time!

Previous posts in this series:

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

#7 - You go into debt because the financial costs of practicing it are way too high.

#8 - You don't believe your passion's barriers to entry pertain to you.

#9 - Pursuing your passion cuts you off from family and/or friends.

#10: It's more about seeing your name connected to an outcome than your deep down enjoyment.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#10: It's more about seeing your name connected to an outcome than your deep down enjoyment.

Also known as "Name in Lights" syndrome. A few years back, I was walking through Broadway (NY) with a friend. I pointed to the marquees of the famous theaters we passed. "One day," I said, in almost mock seriousness, "my name's gonna be up there!" My friend still speaks with me to this day, after I subjected him to this obvious behavior, considering where we were. It wasn't until years later, when I actually had "my name in lights" (although not in NYC), that I realized it wasn't all that it seems in the movies. Nothing magically changed. I still had all my old fears and insecurities. I just had a few more people telling me my writing was fantastic. There was a quick learning curve after that, as I understood exactly how awards and recognition (even just a little) can't take the place of just getting out there and living life.

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

#7 - You go into debt because the financial costs of practicing it are way too high.

#8 - You don't believe your passion's barriers to entry pertain to you.

#9 - Pursuing your passion cuts you off from family and/or friends.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#9 - Pursuing your passion cuts you off from family and/or friends.

It's not that the people close to me have to be an active and equal partner in my passion(s). They're probably thankful I don't bore them with every minute detail. Still, there should be some link, even if it's acknowledgement, among my family and friends. However, if I hear "This drive to become the best [insert passion] in the world is making you cancel all your outings, and you're becoming a stranger to your family," that might be something for me to look into. No one's told me that yet. But I always have to watch for that possibility.

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

#7 - You go into debt because the financial costs of practicing it are way too high.

#8 - You don't believe your passion's barriers to entry pertain to you.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#8 - You don't believe your passion's barriers to entry pertain to you.

Everything has a barrier to entry. Some barriers are more labyrinthine than others. You might be a roller-coaster enthusiast, and think the perfect vacation involves travel to a dozen theme parks experiencing the thrills of hurtling upside down at 60 MPH while spinning along a steel metal track. The barrier to entry? Financial. You can't get into a theme park if you don't have the money.

You might think there are places that have no barrier to entry, but they do.

In the movie "Rudy," the title character dreams of playing football at Notre Dame. But there are HUGE barriers to his entry. His grades suck. He's physically smaller than other players. Very few take him seriously. Even his father tries to talk him out of it. Although Rudy hurtles some barriers (like walking into the coach's office unannounced to meet him), he respects that the main barrier to getting into Notre Dame is his academic ability. So he works on that. And works. And works. And works. And works. And works. Clearly, he respects the university's high wall he has to jump over. But he doesn't just go up and say "Here I am, take me in." He does, however, ask people for their help, which is an entirely different thing altogether.

It's only natural to downplay the barriers you'll have to climb, knock down, dismantle, take the long way around, on your way to success in what you love to do. But if you think, "It'll be a breeze, I'll just walk in and everyone will love me and what I do," then you're probably up for a major disappointment.

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

#7 - You go into debt because the financial costs of practicing it are way too high.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#7 - You go into debt because the financial costs of practicing it are way too high.

I've spent quite a bit of money pursuing my playwriting/screenwriting career. I haven't kept exact track on how much (I knew it would hamper my creativity at the time), but I can estimate the costs as follows:

$1000 on writing seminars
$600 on airfare to Los Angeles for opening and closing weekends of Dearboy's War.
$200 on rental car fees in Los Angeles.
$250 for screenwriting software.
$150 on copying scripts.

That's $2200 - and it's a rough estimate. Granted, that's also over a number of years. Let's look at how much money I've directly made on this passion:

$500 award from the Arch & Bruce Brown Foundation.

Now it's not like I was in danger of going into debt. But as I've gotten less and less satisfaction out of writing scripts, I've certainly felt it in my wallet. Especially since those writing seminars here in DC have doubled their fees!

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

Klondike Thinking is all about "get rich quick." Like a prospector during the gold rush of the 1890's, you're preparing for the extreme discomfort of working by telling yourself "I can take the hardships for a short period of time, since the payoff will hopefully be enormous." The Klondike Thinker might:

stay in a boring, dull and dead end job and put off his dreams until retirement;
fear some initial discomfort in pursuing her passion, which keeps her from pursuing what she loves;
maintain a low level of involvement in his passion while everyone else is going full force;
throw away a perfectly satisfying life to chase a billion-to-one long shot.

The problem with this scenario? Putting too much emphasis on a specific, narrow outcome (make a ton of money, get famous, win an Oscar) and ignore the possibilities inherent in the actual pursuit. I wanted to win an Oscar for screenwriting - but I can't find much fun in writing screenplays. And I don't really want to move to Losa Angeles.

Once I realized this, I could see how I was using Klondike Thinking in pursuing my passion, and identify either what I needed to do to get where I wanted to go, or quit and pursue other interests.

Interests in which I like the panning for gold as much as, if not more than, the gold itself.


#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

Music: you love it. You've got a guitar, you've written songs, you've performed in bars. People say to you "That song you wrote really spoke to me," and "You're awesome, what are you doing staying here?" Things like that. You know you're not a prodigy - you know that to get where you are requires tons of practice. But the weekend rolls around and you're taking the kids everywhere, you've spent three hours at the gym, you fall asleep on the couch afterwards, and when you wake up you try tackling that mountain of paperwork you've brought home from the office. When are you practicing? Writing new stuff? "I'll definitely do it tomorrow," you tell yourself as you watch the Sci-Fi Channel on Saturday night. The next day, you do it all again, and you get so much done. But not your music. Your guitar's locked in its case in the closet.

How do I know all this? I've been there!

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

Let's say your dream is to become Mr. Universe. An extreme example of a dream, perhaps, but let's go with it. You're 6'1", you've been working out with weights since high school, you've even placed in some regional bodybuilding competitions. But in order to get to that lofty plateau, you find you're going to have to do steroids.* If you find no problems with it for yourself, then fine, great, go for it. But what if you have this nagging opposition to using? What if you push past that opposition, that voice in your head yelling "wait, don't!," and start anyway? What if doing that cycle gives you all sorts of physical and behavioral changes - insane acne, heightened aggressiveness, massive depression? Suddenly, you're ignoring clear signs that your body's not cut out for what you're putting it through. Sure, there are all those other people who have "done it," and they're fine, right? But they're not you! It definitely pays to weigh the costs of your dream against any personal harm racing after it may cause.

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

*Disclaimer: I don't purport to be an expert on steroid use or the controversies surrounding them, and this post does not aim to provide advice on them pro or con. This was the first example that came to my mind - so please don't beat me up!

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.


I probably wouldn't make a great Trappist monk. Although the life fascinates me. Simplicity. Quiet. Focus.

I remember seeing a 60 Minutes piece on Thomas Merton, probably the most famous Trappist monk of all (if one can or should label a monk "famous.") He had fascinating things to say, and I read his book The Seven Storey Mountain not long afterwards.

But I know I wouldn't make a good Trappist monk for one reason: I'm a raging extrovert. A huge "E" on the Meyers-Briggs profile. I not only "get" energy from other people, I can feel it coming in. I don't want to be the center of attention, and I don't need to be onstage. But put me in an enclosed office for hours at a time, and I shut down. My brain ceases to function - all creativity goes right out the window.

And isn't that a major portion of a Trappist monk's life? Deep introspection, silence (or should I say lack of conversation)?

Sure, we all want and crave a certain amount of calm and rest in our lives. But if I were to pursue that as my passion, well, then passion would drain out of my life.

But I'm going to read The Seven Storey Mountain again. I've still got my copy. And one of the neat things about getting older? You don't have to buy as many books, since you forget what was in many of them...

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move).

I thought I wanted to be a screenwriter. I wrote plays for 7 years, and even had one produced in Los Angeles. I met actors I'd seen on television, now playing the roles I wrote. It was all very exciting. So I started writing screenplays. But I live in DC. I briefly considered moving to LA - I even spent some time there, getting my bearings, seeing what it's like..

Trouble was, I REALLY didn't like it. I remember looking at the Hollywood Hills one evening, at the lights coming on in the cliff-dwelling homes, and I thought "I don't want that."

In my DC neighborhood, I walk to work, the gym, grocery stores, restaurants. In LA, I'd have to drive. In DC, I leave my house a few minutes before I have to be just about anywhere. In LA, I'd have to leave my apartment maybe an hour beforehand, and figure out the shortest drive to where I wanted to go. In DC, I have all this extra time, given to me because I don't have to commute. In LA, it would be all about the commute.

For a screenwriter, it's also all about the networking. In Hollywood. Not in DC. And it's really difficult if you're not living in LA.

Not that you have to move to where your passion resides, if it's geographically important. But I've found that distance can be a critical factor in deciding what I want to do with my life.

And I'm still living in DC.

Read Part 1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#1 - You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

For years I've heard "do what you love," and "follow your bliss," and "find your passion."

But what's my passion? What happens if it changes? How do I know if I should quit and do something else?

I've thought about those questions - over and over. And I've come up with some ways to measure for myself whether or not what I'm doing is REALLY what I want to do. Hence, #1: It may not be your "passion" if: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

No matter what you do, no matter how exciting your passion may be, there are going to be portions of it that aren't all that interesting. Still, they shouldn't grind you down. I believe that you don't have to absolutely love everything about your dream, but those "grunt work" parts should still do something for you. Let's say mountain biking is your passion. What are the component parts? Well, you have to know about the bike's technical aspects (how much air in the tires, what type of tire for what terrain, what the bike's made of), along with safety concerns (types of helmets, other protective clothing and accessories), and where to ride (what time of year is the best, how crowded is it, how long does it take to get there.) If you say you love love love mountain biking, but bikes and fitness and terrains just bore you to tears, that may be telling you something.

I'll be posting these from time to time, and when I get to the last one, I'll include the entire list. I've come up with fifteen of these statements... who knows how long this will take!