what I miss

A long, looooonnnng time ago, I was involved in a little activity called Color Guard.
you know....the flags?
I'll give you a moment of silence to laugh at my expense
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all set?
Good.

It all started as a Freshmen in High School. I tried out for the team and spent the next four years fine tuning the "craft." After that, another four years competing in an Independent guard (outside of a school) and mixed in, teaching.

I won't get into too many details about it.
All I can say is there probably isn't another point in my life where I was willing to spend ALL of my free time, and will power, and strength, and sanity, dedicated to something most people would say is a waste of time.


Practice was....consuming. When we weren't driving hours to practice, or a competition, or actually attending a competition, we practiced. Oooohhh, the practicing.
I think the average week for High School Color Guard (when I was in it) was six hours per week on an off week, and up to 60 hours a week during a "camp" week. Which was always scheduled during a break, summer or winter.
In college, while I was pulling all-nighters to complete assignments and working during the week, my weekends were completely dedicated to Guard.
12 hours on Saturday, 8 on Sunday...for months.
And I didn't even blink at those numbers.
Nor did I blink when the tips of my fingers had blood blisters upon blood blisters.
And my nails were split down the middle.
And I had an emergency trip to the hospital because a sabre nearly blinded me.
And we had to sleep on wrestling mats (with sleeping bags for worms protection, obv)
And my daily attire was yoga pants and a bandana to tie up my dirty hair.
And I rolled my ankle during practice and got right back up and hobbled through my jazz runs without a second thought.
And so on.

I was dedicated. So very passionate and dedicated to this sport that I would do whatever it takes to be the best I could be at it.
Truth: I wasn't even that good. It took so much extra time to be good at stuff that just came naturally to others, but I wouldn't let that stop me.

And I miss it.
Not that I miss the long hours and lack of social life.
But I miss that passion. I miss the dedication, the all encompassing drive to make something beautiful.
For something...anything!
I want something that I can fall totally in love with (outside of my husband and fur babies, obviously)
I have dabbled with other things since then, but nothing really stuck.
They were hobbies that I got bored with and moved on.

I blame growing up. Realizing how much things cost and how much of a time commitment, and I walk away. Too afraid to just throw myself into something for fear of failure. Fear of throwing away money or being away from my family for too long.

I am probably just cheating myself.
I need to hone in on something that makes me feel that spark again. Something worth some precious time outside home and work.
Because we all know I am not passionate about my job, or any job for that matter.
They are to pay the bills and provide safety for my family. End of game.

What did you or do you do that feeds your passion? Any advice?

Oh and also, because I am glutton for punishment, here is a video of a show I did my first year in college (with and Independent guard). The video is poor quality, but you may be able to spot me. I start the show in the back right corner of the screen, dancing along the back of the tarp to pick up my sabre, and am on sabre (the sword) for most of the show, always standing in the back left of the group of four. Also, I am first pole-dancer to hit the stage.....you'll see :)
What a weird time.