“Pursue some path, however narrow and crooked, in which you can walk with love and reverence.” — Henry David Thoreau
The 2024 Olympics introduced us to a surprising star: Stephen Nedoroscik, the glasses-wearing, Rubik’s Cube-loving pommel-horse master who captured our hearts and won the Internet with his medal-earning performance — and sudden transformation from the Clark Kent to the Superman of gymnastics.
My take on why he took off? I don’t think it was just the glasses and the bronze. It was that his journey was more than a feat of athleticism; it was a masterclass in passion.
In a sport (gymnastics) that typically values breadth over depth, Nedoroscik is one of only two world-class pommel-horse specialists on Earth. His decision to follow this unique path seemed to resonate universally — even with Elmo, who served as an unofficial correspondent to the Games.
“Mr. Stephen Nedoroscik, Elmo wants to be a specialist too!” Elmo posted on X after watching Nedoroscik’s Zen-like performance on the notoriously gnarly apparatus.
“Elmo, the great thing about specializing in something is you get to decide,” Nedoroscik replied. “I think you’ll be a great specialist in anything you end up choosing!”
If I could, I’d give him an On Fire medal, too — gold, not even bronze — for that response.
His response touches on what I’ve come to learn is one of the most fundamental truths about passion that is often misunderstood. First, that it’s a choice; it won’t fall into your lap, even if there is an initial spark. Second, that the more specific your choice, the more likely you’ll fall in love – and become a master.
I’ve been writing On Fire for nine months now. In that time, I’ve interviewed over fifty of the world’s most passionate people and delved deep into the research on what makes us feel truly alive. One thing that I’ve consistently observed among the most passionate people: they actively choose their passions.
Sometimes, it’s in a split-second decision where they decide this is it and there’s no turning back — like Gay Hendricks, who chose to live life consciously after a fall on the ice, or Megan Vaughan Giesbrecht, who in a pivotal moment in her therapist’s office, decided to pursue handstands. Other times, it’s a choice they make repeatedly, as with José Vadi, who continuously chooses to skateboard. But all choose.
Here’s the problem: the cultural messages we get lead so many of us to wait for their passions to choose them or for a magical moment of clarity to arrive that tells them what they are meant to do with their lives. Or they believe that when that spark does catch, then they’re set, even though that’s just an invitation from the universe to make a decision.
I know this not only because of my interviews, but also because it’s how I used to live my life. I believed I would have some magical revelation about my career. I tried many things, but when I didn’t show immediate savant abilities, I would give them up. I had no idea I could choose, and then dig in. The same happened with sports and hobbies. The more I tried without experiencing that moment of clarity, the more disappointed I became in myself. By my early twenties, I was languishing, feeling as if I was doomed to live life in grayscale.
After years of living like this, I began to wonder if there was a different way. That’s when I realized the one thing I hadn’t done was choose one specific interest and stick with it — no shortcuts, no hacks — just old-fashioned love, focus, and attention.
This realization led me to cast a general net for an interest in martial arts. But as Nedoroscik noted, it’s all about specialization — so I couldn’t stop there. Ultimately, I started training jiu-jitsu, the sport I’ve dedicated the last two and a half years of my life to — and, as a part of it, specializing in open guard and triangle chokes. I’ve since discovered that I have some natural ability for the sport — just as Nedoroscik seems to be built for the pommel horse.
Jiu-jitsu did check enough of the boxes. It had a global, passionate community; a reputation for being complex and mentally demanding; and competition opportunities even for people as they got older. It also seemed to align with many of my strengths — though I wasn’t technically sound at first, the strength, flexibility, and overall athleticism I’d built from my previous fitness endeavors gave me a bit of an edge.
But while being enough of a fit was helpful, I didn’t begin because I knew it was the perfect path for me I began because I knew that I had not allowed myself to choose fully before — and I wanted to give it my best shot.
When I first started, I had every reason to quit. The workouts were slow and confusing, lacking the rush of endorphins I was used to from sports like boxing. My left-right confusion showed up in full force, making it difficult for me to remember the wrestling-like sequences. The truth is that at first, I didn’t show much promise as a jiu-jitsu athlete. I certainly wasn’t going to be an overnight success.
A former version of me would have quit, eventually offering the excuse that I just didn’t like it that much or wasn’t very good at it to anyone who asked. But this time, I didn’t quit for only one main reason: I had chosen it.
And soon, the magic we all wait for did happen. The passion chose me. Fast forward two and a half years, and jiu-jitsu is essentially an obsession (the healthy kind, I think!). I willingly spend hours a day training or thinking about jiu-jitsu. I obsess about the nerdy little details and can (and do) talk about it for hours.
To be clear, choosing doesn’t mean stubbornly sticking with something we hate just because we once committed to it, nor does it mean that we can’t ever pivot to something new. It means realizing that the start of passion, after perhaps that initial spark, often doesn’t feel passionate at all. It feels like a slog.
Choosing a passion is a way of stepping into the arena, of declaring to ourselves and the world that we are going to give our hearts to something, even if it comes with the risk of failure or disappointment. Sometimes, in other words, passion follows commitment — even though we often wait for passion in order to commit.
How to Choose
The next question is how. There is a lot written on this, so I want to focus on one aspect that I think is overlooked and misunderstood: the art of being okay with “good enough.” (This may be the one place in which I endorse that message!) So far, I have observed that what gets in the way of passion is not choosing. So should we choose just anything?
Not quite. But my suggestion is to lower your bar. On balance, after all, the problem most people face is leaving their options open, waiting for something that feels “perfect” — and then never choose anything with all their heart… which is the prerequisite to true fulfillment and mastery.
To help you to avoid that trap, here is a Passion Eligibility Checklist I’ve built out of my own experiences, the dozens of interviews I’ve conducted, and the science of passion.
First, consider a given passion — and answer YES or NO for each of these ten criteria.
1. Are you curious about it?
If it naturally piques your interest and keeps you wanting to learn more, this could be a strong foundation for passion.
2. Do you enjoy it, even during challenging moments?
If you find yourself looking forward to it and feeling satisfied afterward, even when it's tough (like during a challenging jiu-jitsu session), it could be worth pursuing.
3. Does it align with your core values?
When your passion reflects who you are and what you believe in, it not only brings joy but also adds a sense of purpose.
4. Do you love the nerdy details that others find boring?
True passion often lies in the details, especially when specializing. If you enjoy diving deep into aspects others overlook, you might be onto something.
5. Is there room for growth and improvement?
The best passions have layers and should offer ongoing opportunities to learn, grow, and challenge yourself.
6. Are there practical opportunities to practice and develop this passion?
Make sure you have access to the resources, community, or environment needed to pursue and refine your interest.
7. Does it energize you?
When you engage in this activity, does it leave you feeling more energized rather than drained? A passion should ideally boost your energy and enthusiasm, even when it's challenging.
8. Do you value the time spent engaging in this passion?
Passions take up a lot of time and energy. Be honest with yourself: do you feel good about dedicating time to this passion?
9. Is there a supportive community?
Having a community to share, learn from, and grow with can be crucial in sustaining a passion.
10. Does it fit into your current life, or can you make room for it?
Passion needs space to grow. Consider whether you can realistically integrate it into your life, given your current commitments.
Second, tally your scores. Here’s the catch: you don’t need to hit all ten. Obviously, higher is better, but if you can easily check at least six out of ten, you’re onto something.
Repeat for each potential passion.
Third, choose!
After that, just dig in. It's natural and important to go through an experimentation phase when choosing a passion. Give it time — at least six months — to build up enough competency to know whether it’s something you want to pursue long-term. But don’t be afraid to let go without guilt if, at some point, you realize it’s not the right fit.
Too many people — or, apparently, furry red monsters — wait for their passions to find them. But it’s up to us to take the lead.
Love this! I’ve shared with my teens and hopefully they make earlier pivots when they realise there’s no passion.