A passion for something

Someone posted on the Sisters in Crime list this morning about how difficult it would be to write something you weren't passionate about. Struck a chord with me, because in doing work-for-hire for young readers, I researched and wrote about a lot of subjects I was far from passionate about--surgery, vaccines, passenger ships, the state of Montana, and so on. Now I'm writing the kind of books I love to get lost in--cozy mysteries--and I'm quite passionate about it, even excited about the new one that keeps calling me back even when I think I'll take time to read. It's a joy and a privilege to have something like that in my life.
But it leads to a larger questions. I once had a conversation with good friends, husband and wife, about finding your passion in life. He, a physician, said medicine was his, and we all knew writing and books were mine. But she admitted with regret that she had no real passion--she had dabbled. A good cook, she cooked in a restaurant for a while; she studied social work;  she became a Master Gardener, which is about as close to a passion as she came. Now she's a Buddhist but we're miles apart and don't communicate often  so I don't know how passionate she is about that. I do know people who have no passion in their lives, people who do their jobs because they need to earn a living, and I find that sad. I was so fortunate to spend 28 years doing work I was passionate about (okay, I'm in danger of overdoing that word). But I wonder about people who plod through each day without a consuming interest--have they just not had the right opportunity or have they not reached out to find it?
Oh, we're all passionate about other things. Most of us who are parents and grandparents feel that way about our families, and I for one have a passion for chocolate (and my kids would add white wine). But that all-consuming, this-is-what-I-want-to-do-with-my-life feeling is a blessing.
Passion is of course usually thought to equal sexual activity, but it's so much more than that. I wishs for everyone reading this tonight that there is or you find some passion in your daily life.
On a lighter note, I think the new fad is going to be connecting celebrities by geneaology. I read this morning that President Obama is a 10th cousin of Scott Brown, newly elected senator from Massachusets. We alrleady know that he is distantly related to former vice-president Dick Cheney (why do they all turn out to be Republicans?). But I was in a meeting the other day with a family descended from a Cheney. They live in Fort Worth's most historic black enclave on the east side of town--once a thriving community and now shrunk to a few households. But many of the descendants of Major Cheney still live on the land he once farmed. They eat Sunday dinner together most Sundays, good down-home southern cooking, and they grow their own produce in summer. Their recent triumphs have been getting their Garden of Eden Neighborhood declared a historic site and having a nearby school named after Major Cheney. I jokingly asked about a relationship to the former vice-president, and they said oh, yes, they were kin. They talked freely about white Cheneys and black Cheneys. So they must be related to the presdient too. On a lesser note, I also read that TV host George Stephanopoulus is distantly related to Hillary Clinton. Politically, that's easier to believe. But I can foresee geneaologists digging deep into the ancestry of lots of political figures now. No telling what strange relationships they'll turn up.

This picture, though awfully dark, is the centerpiece of a quilt that Colin and Lisa made me. It contains the MacBain coat of arms surrounded by the clan plaid. Read on for detials.

To me, geneaology is like heavy gardening: I like having it done, but I want someone else to do the work. A distant relative created a family tree for my father's side of the family, from Clan MacBean, and our first ancestor came from Scotland to fight in the war of 1812, on the British side of course. Colin has his sword today, since he seems to be the inheritor of the MacBain tradition. I have wall hangings and rugs that testify to my Scottish background, and Colin has a MacBain plaid tie. Hmmmm--wonder if he ever wears it?