One of my favorite shows is Dexter. The procedural police show with the central character being a serial killer. He analyzes blood by day and kills other killers by night.
There’s just something about him.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a sociopath who has a need to kill like Dexter. I think it’s that he’s so comfortable with who he is and he pursues his passion despite all the obstacles. He tracks his targets religiously and then dispatches them with a nondescript pageantry complete with an enlightening dialogue about their psychotic nature.
It’s admirable really. Dexter knows he has a problem and he knows that there’s a tremendous likelihood that he’ll get caught. But he does it anyway, with an unending fervor because it’s who he is.
Most of us won’t do that. Most of us beat our personal aspirations deep down into a hole of thick suppression. The hobby’s too expensive. Our loved ones will think it’s weird. We won’t be successful at it. We come up with so many excuses.
That is a tragedy. Life’s short and the afterlife is a mystery. Why not go for it? Why not find our true purpose and then find a way to fit it in our lives?
Personally, I think I’d be afraid of the odd stares from my family if I pursued some off-the-wall, soul-driven passion.
Fortunately I don’t know what that aspiration is.