Passion

Not too long ago, there was a weekend when my husband found himself working a lot of overtime and as a result, I found myself watching a lot of shows on Netflix. By 2 am on Sunday I had run through all my go-to shows and movies and by necessity had to move on to random documentaries. Bankrupt pro athletes, Mary Pickford, the diet industry, etc., etc., etc… I ran through them all and nothing really caught my interest until I stumbled on Jig- a film documenting several dancers’ journeys to the Irish Dancing World Championships.

I consider myself to be a dance enthusiast. I have dabbled in pretty much every type of dance there is at one point or another (including Irish dancing). I started young and haven’t stopped yet, but I’ve got nothing on these kids fighting to become World Champion.

When the show began, I felt like I could relate to most of the dancers and their never-ending cycle of classes and rehearsals. Dance teachers ‘round the world yell at their students to point their toes and I’ve been there and done that. Half an hour in, however, the mother of a particularly voracious 15 year old told how her son used to pull back the carpets in their living room and attempt to perfect the same reel for 7 or 8 hours a day. Of his own volition. After that point in the documentary it became startlingly clear- I never have been, and most likely never will be, that passionate about anything. Ever. Possibly not even about my future children (sorry baby I am currently growing, but it’s true).

That’s just a depressing thought right there. Of course, this all happened at 2:30 in the morning and since everything in my world seems so dramatic after midnight, I shouldn't be surprised... but still. Now the thought has popped in my head and I can’t take it back. It’s out there, floating in my universe.

Well, I’ve had several good nights sleep since then and have decided something. Yes, the world might be a more beautiful and safe and convenient and creative place because of all those passionate people out there, and I sure do appreciate all the hard work they do, but my world is a delightfully calm and (dare I say) lazy place. In the best way possible. No, I’m not the World Irish Dancing Champion, but I am going to perform in dance recital about a month before I'm due to give birth, so I am declaring myself Pregnant Tap Dancing Champion. Huzzah!