Because I’m teaching a class.

I’m teaching a class on passion.

I’m teaching a class on passion to high schoolers.

I’m teaching a class on passion to high schoolers at high school camp.

I’m teaching a class on passion to high schoolers at high school camp in like three-ish weeks.

I’m teaching a class on passion to high schoolers at high school camp in like three-ish weeks with my will-be-two-month-old in tow.

I’m teaching a class on passion to high schoolers at high school camp in like three-ish weeks with my will-be-two-month-old in tow after not having slept through the night for about ten months.

See, sleep deprivation causes all sorts of fun things to happen: the emotions are a little more “accessible”, the ability to reason is a little more muted, and the world looks a lot more swirley.

I have some ideas on what to share/facilitate. But, being part of the post-modern 2.0 generation, I also would love the input of the collective – throwing ideas and experiences into the pot to make a great big passionate stew (or stoup, if you’re Rachael Ray).

So, when is a time that you’ve felt passionate about something?
What caused you to notice it?
Did you make sacrifices to pursue it?
What sort of sacrifices?
What helped you to notice it?
Are you still passionate about it?
When and why do you think your passion changed?

This fairly tired and swirley one would really appreciate your input. Doesn’t have to be long. Email or comment. Or let’s do coffee. Or chat on Facebook (so addicting). I promise to reserve some of my quickly-disappearing-coherent-thoughts/responses for you.