I found myself in the garden running away.
running away from kids.
running away from responsibility.
running away from work.
running away from noise.
The garden is the place to think.
The garden is the place to drink (coffee).
The garden is the place to walk alone.
The garden is the place to walk together.
If there were no bugs and the temps hovered around 60, I'd live out there. (Anybody have weather like that?)
There are other things I run to at other times.
There is God, there is sugar and there is the sweet sweaty arms of babies or the strong, rough arms of my husband.
I knew those were passions - I've known that for a long time. Sometimes though you think things are just hobbies. Just things you like to do. Sometimes they are just ways to make money -- a job. Sometimes though, when you run to those things, you might have just found a passion.
...now the question is -- how many passions can a person reasonably have? Hmmm-hmmmm?