passion (now don't get too excited)

The word has come up a lot lately, and it's been running around in my head for the last several days. I've had a couple of conversations about it, and they've both boiled down to: what is my passion in life? When coupled with a weekend saturated with period semi-romantic films (thanks a lot, netflix) and fever/phlegm/aches of the latest bug, that leads to a whole lotta introspection and brooding about my future.

I can't remember exactly when I first read "The Beast in the Jungle" by Henry James -- I suspect it was included in the collection we used to study "The Turn of the Screw" -- but ever since it has haunted me. If ever someone wanted to examine one of my deeper fears then by all means read it (it's a rather short story). If you don't want to take the time to read it (spoilers ahead!) then, in short, it's a character study of a man who spends his entire life believing he is destined for some great thing only to realize in the waning of his life that, in waiting for this great thing, his destiny became that nothing at all was to ever happen to him.

That's been my concern for some time now. Not that I suffer from overwhelming egomania, but I do feel that I could accomplish a lot in life if only I could discover that great thing, the undeniable talent, the goal that would be my passion for life. However, I've gotten this far in life and I've yet to discover fully what that thing is. This is not to say that I'm not inspired by people around me or the work that I do; I may be a masochist (see previous postings) but I'm not one to pursue people or work that hold no interest for me (or interest in me, for that matter!). I would like find a calling to make my stomach twist and brain burn with with deep and sustained passion. And I'd like it to happen sooner rather than later, lest I become a cautionary example of yet another victim of the Beast.