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I have always envied people with passion - probably because I never found myself to be one. It seems to be a trait only some people truly possess, and the rest of us are just forcing ourselves to appear as passionate people. To clarify, in this case passion for me is simply feeling strongly about something concrete: a job, a hobby, anything similar. Anything that gives you a result in practice that you can actually see or touch.

I thought that really passionate people must have had this character ever since they were born. Not necessarily towards one specific thing right from the start - but they have the ability to set the rest of the world aside and become something more through the thing that they grow to love. And usually by doing this they bring along something for all the rest of us too. Some revelations maybe, new insights. These people, if they're willing, can make some kind of a difference. They live and breathe what they're doing. Maybe it's not a nice thing to have always: I guess it can also be a burden, if not an obsession. Nevertheless I envy them.



What for the rest of us then? I certainly belong to the group that feels strangely detached and uninterested about most things that go on in this world. It's not active passivity, if that word even exists, it's more like a careless interest towards everything a little bit. As for myself, I can be curious about many things at the same time, without any of them really attracting my interest long enough to make me feel passionate about them. Perhaps it's my restless nature, the same one that starts to read four books at the same time without finishing any of them, or watching a movie and literally walking away from it just when things get interesting. Maybe my confused head stops me from being one of these great minds - it just wanders around most of the time, like a bee that lands on all the pretty flowers but doesn't bother to really taste them.



Meeting passionate people is mostly a bit disturbing to me, also because these people are usually very talented at what they do too. And why wouldn't they be? Probably they've spent half of their lives practicing and studying this one area. Sadly, partly due to my flickering mind, I never came to possess any great talents either. People can be good at things, they can be great, but unless you have true passion to do something, you will never become extraordinary. I believe there's a certain level you can reach when it comes to talent without passion. There's some limit you will reach, and it doesn't matter how much you practice or study, there's no moving on to that next level if you're not passionate about it.

Of course, this world would be pretty damn boring if every one of us was passionate and talented. Where would you draw the line then? We'd all be the same grey haze. But there is something rather saddening about admitting to yourself that you're not that extraordinary prodigy of your age. No matter how ridiculous or childish the idea of that is to begin with, I think all of us want to feel special and out of the ordinary in some sense.

After pondering on passion and the lack of it, I eventually found one thing I truly feel passionate about. Indeed I have passion, in the end. It just needs to touch me in a very personal level, and after that I'd do anything for it. Perhaps I'm not quite so talented at my passion as I should be, and perhaps this one area you can never master anyway. But it's still real. The most simple sense of passion and devotion. It's of course that passion for the people I love.

All that jazz!

For the past weeks, I've been more or less forced to listen to jazz. You know - not that lovely, smoky, sensual 20's jazz, but this modern we-all-lost-our-notes jazz. Well, as I said, I was more or less forced, which means I didn't really resist on listening to it. But I did question it a lot. In fact, this type of music has long been the ultimate no go-music for me, and I have wondered why that is. If my big brothers managed to make me endure - if not even remotely like - death metal, then why on earth do I have such antipathies towards jazz? After all, it is (as far as I'm concerned) one of the most prestigious genres and tastes of music.

First I thought jazz is like caviar. (I also hate caviar.) Why would any sensible person eat fish eggs and call it delicious? It's not delicious. It's unborn fish babies, and it certainly tastes like it too. Much like jazz. When a certain part of the population tells you something is good, even though you know deep inside your soul it's certainly not good, you start believing it has to be good. You just never got it. What a silly, uncivilized person you are.

Second, I thought: you need talent for that? Really? Seems to me they just play whatever the hell they want, each one individually, and don't give a shit about what the other members of the band are doing. It's like each one of them are trying to overcome the other one, and so it all equals a big chaos. Like ten very loud and opinionated people are having a heated conversation and they all end up shouting at each other. Nobody can make sense of that, I tell you. Much like jazz.

Thirdly, I thought that people who actually truly like jazz, must be a bit weird. Perhaps their minds are like the music. No idea where it's going, what will happen, who will have a saxophone solo next. Or maybe the pianist goes nuts and starts hitting his Yamaha with his fists. You never know about jazz; so how could you ever know about the people who listen to it? Were they traumatized as kids? Are they a bit ADD? Are they a lot ADD?

And the fourth time I thought about it, I think I found my answer. Why don't I like it? Why is it so hard for me to value it? The answer is really very simple.

Jazz is like life. You can't decide how it starts - and you can't decide where it's going. At times it makes some sense, but most times it doesn't. The best you can really do with it is to try to sit back and relax and appreciate whatever note it will give you next. Maybe it's dissonant; maybe it's harmonious. But if you refuse to listen to it, or if you try to shut your ears from it, it will just slowly slip away and in the end you will realize you just spent all your days in meaningless silence.

I'm not quite sure if I like jazz now, or if I ever really will. I've come to realize that life is all about dissonances, misunderstandings, improvisation, adaptation, confusion - and trying to be and communicate with other people even though you have no idea what's their next move. And that, for me, is also jazz. Thus so far I enjoy listening to my melodic music, something I can choose, where I know the rhythm and the melody, perhaps even lyrics. I can stop it, pause it, forward it or just skip it if I choose to. Not something you can do with life.

My small adventure towards acknowledging jazz is still going on - as is my adventure towards life also. Maybe at some point I'm ready to truly respect both of them in all senses, and stop paying attention to the little mistakes and flaws they both seem to have plenty. After all, these defects, whether they're small or big, are in the end the very things that make life slightly more meaningful.

Maybe jazz, too.