Let Your Passion Consume You

The Myth of the Sacred Fire

We have a story we tell about passion. It’s a romantic, slightly dangerous story of a fire within. We imagine the obsessive artist, the relentless scientist, the entrepreneur who sleeps under their desk. They are powered by a force so great it borders on madness, a sacred calling that demands everything. In this story, meaning is found not just in pursuing what you love, but in being utterly consumed by it. Find the thing you would die for, the story goes, and then live for it until it burns you up completely. This idea has deep roots. Think of Mary Shelley, a teenager in a Swiss villa, caught in the grip of a waking nightmare that would become *Frankenstein*. She was consumed by the "supremely frightful" vision of a reanimated corpse, a concept so powerful it compelled her to write, expanding a short story into one of the most enduring novels ever written. Her passion wasn't a gentle hobby; it was a haunting. It demanded to be brought into the world, and in doing so, it defined her life and legacy. This is the path of the jackhammer, to borrow a term from the writer Elizabeth Gilbert. It is direct, forceful, and single-minded. The jackhammer finds a spot and drills, deaf to the world, seeing only the objective. There is an undeniable power to this kind of devotion. It builds monuments, creates masterpieces, and pushes the boundaries of human knowledge. But it is also predicated on a sacrifice. To feed one great fire, you must often let all the others die out. This philosophy asks for your obsession, your focus, your life. And it promises, in return, a purpose that burns brightly enough to cast away all doubt.