PASSION

I'm reading a book by Tracy Kidder called "Mountains Beyond Mountains" about a doctor named Paul Farmer who is a major player in the fight for equitable health care around the world. His passion is the people of Haiti and the poor everywhere; his tireless work both amazes and inspires me and trips my guilt-o-meter. I remember feeling the same way when I read about Albert Schweitzer when I was a kid.

And I've been watching some TV: the movie "A Beautiful Mind" about schizophrenic John Nash, whose passion for math has impacted much of our modern business; a PBS special about a scientist from Papua New Guinea who passionately pursues (in the field) the study of the various species of Birds of Paradise; another PBS show about a guy who at 15 years old, decided to make his life work the saving of the kahou bird in Bermuda, thought to be extinct for 300 years.

I love people of passion. I could name many more examples, and so could you. Now, here's my problem. I consider myself (accurately, I believe) a passionate person. But I can't figure out how people can concentrate for a whole lifetime on just one thing, how that one thing can fuel their passion so. Or so it seems.

I've always had this problem. Which is why, in college, I was elated to discover that Humanities was a major, that I could study language and music and art and philosophy and culture all under one banner. And now, decades later, I can get all fired up to save the birds or the children or the local library or the gifted program or the homebound elderly or the mamas and babies of Haiti or anything else that captures my attention in the moment. But I can't seem to maintain a focused energy long enough to do the kind of work that so many are doing in the world, running small (or large) charities and foundations, serving long missions, giving their lives to serving the truly needy.

I'm not trying to denigrate the small good I do in my own life; it just seems so paltry when I learn of some of the things other passionate people are doing in the world. I'm headed to Haiti for a week, to volunteer in a birth clinic. I'm excited and happy to serve. But I'm carrying some guilt, too, that at the end of the week, I can leave. Most of the people of Haiti, those stuck in grinding, life-sapping poverty, have no such option. The injustice and inequity of it pricks my soul. And there are those who come to help and who stay, sometimes for years, like Paul Farmer or the good folks on the post-earthquake ground of Haiti, who have more time and freedom than I, because I've chosen to focus my service in my home.

But do they also have more passion? I fear I am lacking a larger vision for my life. I wonder why I am always so moved by stories of do-gooders, why I have always felt called to such a life, why I'm not living that life more fully. It's a constant personal conflict, this acknowledgement that what I do and how I live is, in fact, one manifestation of a life of passion and love, contrasted with this pull to larger circles of service. I worry that I've grown lazy, that I wouldn't be able to answer a call to larger service, despite my theoretical passion, that I've buried talents to the point of atrophy. I worry that my passion for such things is really a mask for ego. I worry that I may be ignoring opportunities in my own sphere of influence by focusing beyond the mark. I worry that I'll never figure this all out.

In the meantime, I'm headed to Haiti, with my sincere passion to help, with my worry and my guilt. Prayers are welcome. So are donations. Please check out www.mamababyhaiti.org to find out about the organization I'll be with. They are perfect examples of passionate,compassionate service.