10 Principles for Living a Life That Feels on Fire

Lessons from the world’s most passionate people on building, sustaining, and rekindling passion

Illustration by Mihajlo Stojanovic

“I want to know what passion is. I want to feel something strongly.” — Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

What does it take to live a life that feels on fire?

When so many people spend their days just getting through them, what makes others wake up eager to jump out of bed?

I wanted to understand that spark — what keeps it alive, and why it fades. When I first started On Fire, in fact, it was partly for selfish reasons. As a kid, I had endless passions — books, wild animals, imaginary worlds, — especially the ones where the two collided. So did everyone I knew. But somewhere along the way, I started noticing something: people stopped doing the things they loved. They gave up their dreams, their side projects, the small things that once made them excited about life. I did too. Life got busy, and being “practical” took over. Little by little, the spark went out.

But not for everyone. Some people, I noticed, still managed to keep that spark alive. They seemed to operate on a different frequency — more engaged, more present, more awake in their lives. I wanted to know what they had that the rest of us didn’t.

So I started talking to them — interviewing one passionate person a week for a year, from all walks of life. And over time, a pattern emerged: passion isn’t luck. It’s not something you’re born with. It’s a set of choices and habits that anyone can practice.

The hopeful message: it’s possible to go from going through the motions to being on fire again (speaking from experience).

Here are ten principles that can help you build — and sustain — a fire that lasts.

1. Don’t expect it to be “perfect.”

A lot of people think that when they find their passion, everything will click. They’ll feel whole, and life will suddenly make sense. They’ll just know it’s meant to be.

Every once in a while, it does happen that way — but it’s rare. More often, passion begins with a spark, not certainty. You follow a curiosity, tug on a thread, and a few things fall into place. But not everything will feel perfect. It’s messy, uneven, full of questions.

The turning point isn’t when you find the perfect fit. It’s when you choose it anyway — when you decide this is the thing you’ll give your energy to, at least for now.

Commitment, not compatibility, is what transforms a spark into a flame.

(Two of my favorite books about this: Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman and The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. Both beautifully capture how the lives we choose, not the ones we imagine, make us who we are.)

2. Build structure around your spark.

Once you’ve chosen a spark, the next challenge is keeping it alive.

There’s a myth that passionate people — athletes, artists, entrepreneurs — are always lit up, driven by endless motivation. But the truth is, passion without structure burns out fast.

Every passionate person I’ve met relies on systems to sustain their fire: morning rituals, training schedules, creative routines. They don’t wait for inspiration; they build containers that make showing up inevitable.

Structure might sound restrictive, but it’s the opposite. Think of it as scaffolding for your passion — the framework that makes freedom possible. Without it, even the brightest spark fades under the chaos of everyday life.

As much as I love to write, my motivation disappears quickly when I don’t have one of those containers. That’s why I block two hours to write first thing every morning, six days a week. This Substack and my current book project are my boundaries — they give my spark somewhere to live.

You don’t have to be a writer to do the same. Any passion — painting, skating, photography, entrepreneurship — grows stronger when it’s given dedicated time and space. Structure doesn’t kill passion; it keeps the flame burning.

3. Let yourself obsess over the details.

One thing I’ve noticed in the most passionate people: they’re hopelessly obsessed with details most others overlook. I’m always amazed at how my dad treats his garden like a living painting — he’ll spend hours deciding which plants complement each other, where a burst of color belongs, how one texture plays off the next. Pianists lose themselves in the weight of a single note. Jiu-jitsu nerds (like me) can spend hours debating the angle of a hip or the grip placement of a hand.

Those tiny details are more than quirks — they’re signs of devotion. Paying attention is how we fall deeper in love with what we do. It’s through that focus — the refinement, the tinkering, the near-microscopic noticing — that passion becomes richer over time.

If something that bores everyone else lights you up, pay attention.

It’s a clue that you’ve found a spark worth tending. And when you let yourself dive into those rabbit holes — to study, refine, and tinker endlessly — passion becomes self-sustaining. There’s always more to learn, more to master, more to love. Curiosity keeps the fire burning.

4. Accept that your life might look imbalanced.

When I spoke to legendary fingerstyle guitarist Mary Flower, she admitted something with a hint of regret:

“I don’t have a lot of hobbies,” she said. “I don’t do pottery. I don’t do yoga. Life is pretty much all music.”

But here’s the truth: most people who care deeply about their craft live this way. Their worlds narrow — not because they lack curiosity, but because devotion demands focus. Great musicians, athletes, and creatives trade breadth for depth.

That’s the paradox of passion: the more you give yourself to something, the less room there is for everything else. But that’s also what allows mastery — and meaning — take root.

If you’re pouring your energy into something that matters, of course other things fall away. That’s the cost (and the privilege) of caring deeply. So don’t worry if your life looks imbalanced from the outside. You’re in good company.

5. Defend your focus like your passion depends on it (it does!).

Flow is that rare state where time fades away, your ego dissolves, and for a little while, everything feels right in the world. You lose yourself — but somehow, come out of it feeling more like yourself.

But flow doesn’t just happen. It’s built on focus — on long, uninterrupted stretches of attention. My friend and author Steven Kotler likes to say that as creatives, we should all have a door with a sign that reads, “F*ck off, I’m flowing.” The sign is optional, but the message isn’t. Passion and flow are inseparable.

If you want to stay passionate about something, you need uninterrupted time to do it — no phone calls, no social media, no well-meaning interruptions from family members or colleagues. Passion can’t survive in fragments. It needs your full attention.

6. Find your fellow weirdos.

When I first started prioritizing training and early morning writing sessions, I suddenly found myself out of sync with most of the world. I didn’t want to stay out late at bars making small talk; I wanted to wake up early and work on things that mattered to me. It was lonely at first — until I started finding other people who cared about the same things.

Robotics engineer Ross Hatton said something similar when we spoke: “If I was just going to sit on my own and do it… what’s the point?” he told me. “But if I can find other fun people and work with them… that’s what makes this all worthwhile.”

For all the downsides of the internet, this is one of its greatest gifts: it’s easier than ever to find your fellow weirdos. Intrigued by extreme ironing? (Yes, that’s a thing.) There’s a group for that. Want to nerd out about one-arm handstands? You’ll find others just as obsessed. Reddit, Instagram, TikTok, X — whatever your passion, you can find people who share it.

Because passion can be a lonely road. But it doesn’t have to be. Finding your people — the ones who get your quirks, share your drive, and speak your language — makes the journey infinitely richer.

7. View struggle as a good thing.

One difference I’ve noticed between people who stick with a passion and those who quit early: the passionate ones don’t run from struggle — they expect it. They understand that frustration isn’t a sign something’s wrong; it’s a sign they’re growing.

Think about it. The last time you tried something that came easily, did you stay with it for long? Probably not. Ease is pleasant, but it rarely holds our attention. Challenge does.

The harder the puzzle, the deeper we engage. Every small win inside that struggle reinforces motivation — the mastery loop that keeps us coming back for more. Struggle isn’t the obstacle to passion. It’s the path.

8. Treat it like a long game.

Intensity is one of the most beautiful parts of passion — that fire-in-the-belly feeling when you’re completely absorbed in what you love. But even the most passionate people can’t operate like a Ferrari 24/7.

Passion has rhythms, just like interval training: push hard, pull back, reset, repeat. I struggle with this myself. I love intensity and don’t naturally like slowing down. But the more I build rest into my days and weeks — like the smartest athletes do — the less I burn out.

If your goal is long-term passion, resist the urge to go all in all the time. Build recovery into your process — take breaks, step away, let your mind wander. Take an entire weekend off. Rest isn’t the opposite of passion. It’s what keeps the engine running.

9. When the fire cools, don’t panic.

The shadow side of loving intensity is this: when the fire cools, it can feel like something’s wrong. You start to wonder if you’ve lost your spark, or if you chose the wrong passion altogether.

But intensity is cyclical. In the early or high phases of passion, your brain is flooded with dopamine — the neurochemical of anticipation and motivation. You feel focused, unstoppable, alive. Then you finish the project, cross the goal line, or hit a lull — and the dopamine drops, sometimes below baseline. That’s the “post-project depression” so many passionate people experience.

It doesn’t mean your passion’s gone. It means your brain is resetting — shifting from dopamine-driven pursuit to slower, steadier neurochemicals like serotonin and oxytocin, which help you rest and recover. Passion, like any long-term relationship, moves in waves: excitement, fatigue, recovery, renewal. The key is to expect the ebb as much as the flow — and to trust that the spark returns when you give it space to breathe.

10. Keep choosing it.

Passion isn’t something you find once; it’s something you choose over and over. Some days it feels effortless; other days it’s a decision. The most passionate people I’ve met treat commitment as a practice — a daily recommitment to what matters.

Sports psychologist Mark Aoyagi once told me that most people mistake motivation for a feeling. “I feel like going to practice today. I feel like putting in the work.” But true commitment, he explained, goes beyond feelings. It’s about taking action regardless of how you feel.

Mark constantly reminds his athletes that some mornings they’ll wake up motivated — but most days, they won’t. “If you follow that feeling, you won’t show up very often,” he said. “But if you follow commitment, you’ll keep showing up, stay engaged, and get the most out of it.”

When the spark dims or life gets noisy, come back to that choice. Ask yourself: Do I still want this? If the answer is yes, that’s enough to keep going. Passion lasts not because it’s easy, but because you keep choosing it.

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One more thing in closing: it’s okay to fall out of love with something.

There will always be people like Steve Paranto, who happened upon pickleball on a rainy day in college and has been obsessed for more than 50 years. But that’s rare. More often, our passions evolve as we do. Olympic athletes turn their focus to mentoring the next generation. Musicians fall in love with teaching, or with silence. I’ve felt this shift myself — trading an obsession with handstands for the challenge of jiu-jitsu.

We tend to think of quitting as failure. But easing up, pivoting, or letting go isn’t giving up — it’s listening. It’s the sign of someone still awake to what matters, still curious enough to follow a new thread.

So wherever you are — in the spark, the struggle, the renewal, or the release — keep paying attention. Passion is less about holding on forever, and more about showing up fully, right where the fire is.

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