Yesterday I had a conversation with two sad eyes.
They belonged to an actress I’ve known for a few years. A beautiful woman in her prime, who’s made a name for herself in the film industry.
She told me she had lost her passion. That she no longer cares about the jobs she’s offered. And that she’s planning to go back to university to study law—after spending well over fifteen years in the industry.
I was impressed by her decision. It felt bold, even driven by curiosity.
But when I asked why she chose law, she said it was mostly because she no longer feels a sense of community in the film world. That she would consider working in theatre again—but doesn’t know which directors she’d like to work with. And last time she attended a theatre festival, she didn’t have anything to talk about with the people she met.
Ideas and topics for discussion come from being involved. From watching plays. Reading. Reflecting. And immersing yourself in impressions. Passion comes from seeking out the kind of art that moves you.
So I asked: What plays have you seen lately that inspired you?
“None,” she said.
And suddenly, her loss of passion wasn’t a mystery anymore.
It was clear to me then: acting—the craft she once loved—had turned into a hunt for opportunities. A career path. A LinkedIn feed.
But how can you feel connected to an artform you no longer engage with?
You can’t.
I’ve seen this happen to others, too. Especially to those who are extremely career-focused. Because when the curiosity dies, the pursuit becomes about numbers. Every meeting, every coffee, every project becomes a calculated move.
I’m not a stranger to ambition.
But I believe success comes from engagement. From honest curiosity. From staying close to the craft—not the results.
And most of all, staying close to your sense of joy.
That’s where it begins.
That’s what makes the journey worth it—because without that honest excitement, we lose the compass that once effortlessly guided us.
What sparked your curiosity lately?