There is a certain power that lies in being passionate about something…anything. I think I need to update my definition of a life well lived to include having a passion. Surprisingly to me, I don’t think it matters if the passion is for something many of us would consider trivial. I don’t think it matters if we chose to display it in a nonsensical way. One just has to have it.

Heck, sometimes the way we chose to celebrate our passions comes to define the passion for us or for others that see us. This weekend, I got a picture taken of me with a man who shares my love for the Redskins. He’s been going to games for 30 years with his headdress. He’s on TV at just about every Redskins home game…his passion is a celebrated part of the local team lore. I would guess over half of the long time Redskins fans (most of DC) recognize him. What’s interesting to me is that we recognize him by his way of showing his passion. Most of us probably wouldn’t recognize him without the headdress. Dressed for game day, he is Chief Zee, and the passion he has multiplies all of the excitement, fun and heartache of being a Redskins fan.

I guess I hope that when all is said and done people will think I lived with passion even if it’s not as instantly recognizable as the Chief’s. For me, it’s the family that gets me up in the morning and makes me smile at night, and that’s enough.
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I was thinking the other day about the quote “the opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s apathy.” I’m not sure what prompted this other than not having a lot of good feeling physical sensations making through to my brain these days while I wait impatiently for this flare to go on its merry way.

In any event, I’m not sure either apathy or hate is the opposite of love any more than yellow is the opposite of blue. They are both extremes that seem as far away from love as any feeling I have ever experienced. Primary emotions? Is there such a concept, and if so how many are there?

Yeah, thoughts like this probably deserve the sentiment conveyed so perfectly in the picture above, but that’s what you get from a mind that keeps waking up at 4am due to the joy that is steroids.
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Our Family's Stories of Growing Up

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