Why ‘Follow Your Passion’ is Terrible Advice and What To Do Instead

“Follow your passion” sounds simple.

But for most people, it is not very useful.

Because most people do not know what their passion is.

They know what is familiar.

What their parents expected.

What their friends are doing.

What looks impressive.

What feels safe enough to explain.

So instead of following passion, they follow the path that requires the least confusion.

But familiar is not the same as alive.

In a conversation on the My First Million podcast, Shaan Puri brought up Joseph Campbell’s idea:

Follow your bliss.

Bliss is the thing you are naturally drawn toward.

The thing you return to without being forced.

The thing you lose track of time doing.

The thing you do in your off hours that other people might call work.

But even bliss is not enough.

Because the real test is not only what excites you.

It is what difficulty you are willing to return to.

Campbell later wished he had said it differently:

Follow your blisters.

A blister is proof that something was hard, but still worth returning to.

That may be the better clue.

Not: “What makes me happy?”

But: “What kind of hard do I keep choosing?”

Because every meaningful path has friction.

The work gets boring.

The progress slows.

The doubt shows up.

The cost becomes real.

And when that happens, shallow excitement disappears.

But deeper enthusiasm stays.

It keeps pulling you back.

Not because the work is painless.

But because something in you still wants to meet it.

That is the signal.

The point is not to chase suffering.

The point is to notice the struggle you willingly endure because something about the work feels worth it.

The writing you keep returning to.

The problem you keep thinking about.

The craft you keep practicing.

The conversation you keep wanting to understand.

The work you can keep returning to without losing yourself.

That is why “follow your passion” may be the wrong question.

A better question is:

What gives me energy even when it asks something of me?

And maybe the best question is:

Where are my blisters?

Because your path may not announce itself as certainty.

It may begin as curiosity.

Then repetition.

Then effort.

Then the strange realization that even though it is hard, you keep coming back.

Follow your bliss.

But trust your blisters.

They may know where you are actually willing to go.

Inspired by a conversation on the My First Million podcast How To Find Your Thing.