No need to worry about when you arrive here. I am just always happy to see you whenever you do.

Thanks so much! You are a dear.
p.s. I started working at my office in Pasadena. I love it. xoxo

I don’t see passion often. It is rare. I do see it in Hillman. He has it. And I feel it in me when I am in his presence. It is delightful. I think if I was around Hilly too much then the passion might be eclipsed by the practical. It is hard to sustain that kind of passion when there are dishes to be done.

Thank you for being the brave one to answer my question about “who do we love that it doesn’t make sense?” I think, for me, besides Hillman—the answer is also my mother. I think I love her. A lot of the time it is hard to feel.

I would love to hear more about your lack of trusting passion. Very interesting.

xoxoxo

Having said that (and meant it), I find after thinking about this post for most of a day that I don’t really see passion. I can’t decide whether that means I am surrounded by it, so it’s like asking a fish to notice water, or whether I don’t respond to it at all. My boss and my husband are both deeply passionate about the work they do, but once passion gets broken down into practicality and getting the work done, it loses some of its electricity. (And who do I love although it doesn’t make sense? My own husband — we loved each other even though it didn’t make sense, so we got married.)

I can’t immediately think of someone else who I even notice as being passionate — and I am a big Leonard Cohen fan. I saw him in concert a few years ago and was blown away, but I wouldn’t say it was because of his passion. I would call it energy or spirit or wit — maybe those are synonyms.

I think I don’t trust passion, so I have to rename it. I’m going to mull this over for a long time.