"Did anybody ever see such a picture of passion!"
"...virulent passions..."
"But you are passionate..."
Like Jane, I feel things intensely. Some might argue too intensely. My mother wanted me to be a lawyer because I could argue my point of view, right or wrong, with such passion. Or, maybe I should have been on the stage- her pet name for me was "Sarah Bernhardt." (Actress from my grandmother's time. Think dramatic diva.)
Either way, like Jane Eyre's Aunt Reed, my mother feared that passion and not common sense ruled my actions. And at times it did. Still does. But like Jane, I cannot seem to dampen those passions. On Facebook, I've started deleting all the political advertisements/posts because I cannot seem to stop myself from commenting. "...for it seemed as if my tongue pronounced words without my will consenting to their utterance: something spoke out of me over which I had no control." As a writer, you must not offend any segment of the populace and as I'm told often enough, "It's better to say nothing."
That doesn't mean I can do that, even if I wanted to. Jane understands where I'm coming from- speak first, regret later. That's probably why I loved reading Jane Eyre. (And it has nothing to do with the fact that Ms. Bronte and I share the same first name.)
But while such passion may push friends, yes, family too, and acquaintances to a distance, it also serves as a constant supply of motivational energy. When I get fired up about something, I generally tend to stick to the project until I've finished it--or turned to something new. (Very rarely does it fizzle, but that doesn't mean it can't die a sudden death.) My passion is directed toward my children and family, my writing/career, reading, swimming in my pool, abhorring the cold, and enjoying life.
So Jane and I want to know, What's your passion?
Char
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