Ah, spring time. Flowers bloom, birds are singing, love is in the air (Oh oh oh), topless black people are running through the park (hey, it's not racist when it's true)... isn't this the best time of the year? Not if you suffer from fucking seasonal allergies it isn't. But that's a different story. I'm in a good mood and no sneezing fit is gonna cha...ah....ah...chooooo! Wait. Wait. They always come in twos. Achoooo! There ya go. Where was I... oh yeah, I'm in a good mood. Why am I in a good mood? Because there's so many things to be passionate about. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So the other day I went to the mall to buy an "appliance". I'm not gonna tell you what it was, but I can assure you it wasn't anything naughty. So in the appliances section of the mall, there was this very tall friendly looking salesclerk who was at the time talking to another customer. Oh, and he was black. See, I almost forgot – that's how un-racist I am. So I was looking around, but for some reason I kept noticing how friendly the salesclerk was and I was secretly hoping that he'd walk up to me and ask me if I needed help. And guess what, he did. So I told him what I was looking for and I soon realized that he wasn't exactly an expert on the type of appliance that I was interested in. In fact, all the information he could give me was entirely useless (“I got one of those myself”). But I didn’t mind. Why didn't I mind? I'm glad you ask. Despite the fact that the guy was absolutely clueless, he did everything right. He was friendly, he showed an interest in me and he gave me the impression that he really wanted me to find what I was looking for. You might argue that that’s his job, but it wasn’t just that. He was truly passionate about what he’s doing, and that really touched a nerve in me.

I’m passionate about a lot of things: computers of course, movies, music, unicorns… and if you talk to me about any of those things, chances are I will get really carried away. Some people find that to be a scary or an annoying quality, but I often think that’s because they don’t have anything they’re passionate about. If I’m right, and I am, then in a way that’s really sad. Most great things in this world were envisioned by people who were passionate about what they were doing. This is true for any form of art but also for many other things. With passion comes the ability to completely lose oneself in a particular endeavor and without it, you can never achieve anything great. But passion also has another important property: it’s infectious; and the more people are infected, the greater the things they can achieve.

When I talk to people who are passionate about what they do, and it really doesn’t matter what they do, I often get an overwhelming feeling of great warmth. That feeling makes me want to learn new things, start new projects and suck up all the knowledge I can find on a particular topic.

Unfortunately, there aren’t enough people who are passionate about what they do. In fact, I’d say most people aren’t. If you are one of those people, stop and listen. I know that being 25 years old, unmarried, no kids, I’m probably not in the best position to give anyone advice on how they should live their lives. But I beg of you, please listen to me anyways (you can mock me later). Finding the one thing in life that you’re really passionate about is as close as it gets to finding the meaning of life. The way I look at it, this life is all you get (unless you’re a cat) and whatever mistakes you make on the way, you cannot undo. If you spend 40 years of your life working a job that you hate, then those 40 years are gone and nothing will bring them back. We humans are great at adapting to whatever situation we’re thrown into. That’s our greatest strength (that and the opposable thumb thing) but also one of our greatest weaknesses. We hate change, but without change, there’s no progress. If you hate your job, quit. Find the thing that you’re passionate about and do it. Of course it’s never that easy, but if you don’t do it, you will regret it.

This is already becoming too long, but there’s one last thing I’d like to add: of course it’s easier to find your passion and to live it when you’re a young whippersnapper like me and you don’t have a wife and kids to feed. But I would still argue that it’s never too late to do what you love. When my mother began to study painting, she was already in her late forties. She had gone through many different jobs, had raised three kids and had always felt that there was something missing in her life. Painting has turned her into a different, happier person.