“All extremes of feeling are allied with madness.” ― Virginia Woolf
The science of passion tells us there are two kinds: harmonious and obsessive. One is healthy. The other is to be avoided at all costs.
But after interviewing nearly eighty deeply passionate people — and looking at my own obsessive tendencies — I’m not sure that distinction tells the whole story.
I’ve started thinking about a third possibility — a kind of integrated intensity I call harmonious obsession.
It’s not about balance. It’s about devotion that doesn’t destroy you.
Because here’s what I’ve seen: the people who are truly lit up by life? The ones who create, innovate, and keep pushing forward? They’re almost always… a little obsessed.
Harmonious passion, according to the research, happens when an activity aligns with your identity and values. You choose it freely. It brings joy, lights you up, and fits into the rest of your life — but you can turn it off when you want to.
Obsessive passion, on the other hand, feels more compulsive. It’s often fueled by internal pressure — fear, ego, the need to prove yourself — and leads to burnout and imbalance.
But here’s where I think the model falls short: it assumes passion must fall into one of two boxes. It doesn’t leave room for the messy, fascinating, obsessive-but-fulfilling middle ground where so many passionate people actually live.
Take Kobe Bryant, for example. He’s one of my heroes. I looked up to him not just because he was superb at basketball, but because he could talk about it — he was an incredible storyteller and his advice transcended the court.
Once, a reporter asked Kobe what quality he thought all great performers have.
“It’s love,” he answered without hesitation. “The quality that we all share is that we love what we do. We absolutely love it.”
Usually the quote ends there. But the rest of the quote goes like this: “We do it all the time. We study all the time.”
To think that Kobe could go home after practice and not think about basketball while eating dinner with his family is ludicrous.
It was always on his mind. He was obsessed. And he wanted it that way. Because he cared — a lot. And because it got him ahead.
My friend and psychologist Scott Barry Kaufman (who, incidentally, went to high school with Kobe) has what you might call an obsessive mind. A year and a half ago, he caught the mentalism bug after a magic show in Vegas. A few days later, we met at our usual taco spot in Santa Monica and he started showing me card tricks between bites of chips and salsa.
Since then, it’s become a running joke among his friends: spend more than twenty minutes with Scott, and you’re probably going to end up talking about magic. He’s not performing professionally. He doesn’t want to be David Copperfield. But he’s all in. He’s spent hours a day studying it, ordering props, and rehearsing shows — not for the public, but for friends, like the time he put on a private performance for Sam and Annika Harris.
But this isn’t a one-time thing. I’ve seen Kaufman go deep like this with a lot of passions: Abraham Maslow (he spent four years poring over Maslow’s personal journals to write his book Transcend), gym reps, motorcycles, breakdancing, even auditioning for American Idol. His obsessions burn hot — and they also fuel meaningful, creative work.
So does this count as unhealthy obsession? And where does he draw the line?
“I think I'm harmoniously and obsessively passionate,” he told me while shuffling cards. “They're not necessarily at odds with each other. It’s possible to have both.”
Coming from one of the world’s leading psychologists on human potential, that framing gave me pause. It challenged what I thought I understood about the science of passion — the neat binary between harmonious (good) and obsessive (bad).
But it also clicked. Because it put words to something I’d been circling for a while: the idea that obsession doesn’t always fit into either box. In fact, some of the most passionate people I’ve interviewed — people who are deeply fulfilled and highly productive — share this exact trait.
“For me,” he added, “I have healthfully integrated it into the core of my identity — which is harmonious passion. But it also keeps me up at night. I can’t help but come up with new ideas.”
That line hit especially close. I know what it’s like to be kept up at night by an obsession — and not always in a good way.
I was recently diagnosed with OCD, and it helped explain a lot — not just the spirals that pull me under, but also the way I latch on, dive deep, and don’t let go.
When that energy attaches to something outside my control — a conversation from months ago, my perceived self-worth, fears about the future — it clouds everything else. It spirals. I wake up at 3 a.m., wide-eyed and stuck inside my own head.
But when that same obsessive force is pointed at something that lights me up — writing, jiu-jitsu, a story I can’t stop thinking about — it becomes a superpower. It gives me focus, drive, and a kind of creative stamina I wouldn’t otherwise have.
That’s why I’ve started to think about this differently. Maybe what we need isn’t a binary — but a third category. A middle space that passionate people already live in, even if the research hasn’t caught up yet.
Harmonious obsession.
Not the absence of obsession — but obsession with integration. The kind that burns bright, but doesn’t burn you out over time. The kind that’s intense, focused, and maybe a little all-consuming… but aligned with who you are, and sustained by love, not fear — the way Kobe described it.
Passion research has done us a great service by showing that not all passion is healthy. But maybe it’s time to update the model — not to throw it out, but to make space for what so many passionate people already know: that obsession isn’t always a red flag. Sometimes, it’s the engine.
When it’s held with care — when it’s fueled by love instead of fear — obsession doesn’t consume you. It drives you. It focuses you. It keeps you coming back, again and again, to what matters most.
Not everyone will understand that kind of intensity. And that’s okay.
But if you’ve ever felt a little “too much,” a little too lit up, a little too locked in on something you love… maybe you’re not off track.
Maybe you’re just harmoniously obsessed.
Very insightful! My best friend adores Kobe for the same reason we all admire him, and delineating between harmonious and obsessive passion is helpful.