Why "Find Your Passion" Is Misleading Advice

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Today’s Health Upgrade

• Does passion = happiness?

• The skill that protects your brain

• The myth of the reset

Fact Or Fiction
Do You Need to Find Your Passion to Be Happy?

We’ve all heard it: “Just find your passion, and happiness will follow.” But is that advice doing more harm than good?

Chasing passion as the key to happiness could leave you more anxious, disappointed, and stuck—unless it’s the right kind of passion.

In a major review covering more than a decade of passion research, scientists analyzed how two different types of passion affect long-term well-being:

Harmonious passion: when you freely choose an activity that feels meaningful and integrate it into your life without letting it control you.
Obsessive passion: when your identity becomes dependent on the activity, making it feel like a burden you can’t step away from.

People with harmonious passion reported higher levels of joy, focus (a.k.a. flow), and sustainable psychological well-being. Meanwhile, obsessive passion was linked to stress, emotional conflict, and burnout—even when people were doing things they once loved.

The researchers caution against the “follow your passion” mindset because it implies that your purpose is something you discover instantly, fully formed. That belief creates frustration when people don’t feel an immediate spark—and it often leads to quitting at the first sign of struggle.

Instead, the researchers argue, joy comes from building a meaningful relationship with an activity, not expecting it to deliver instant happiness.

Passion isn’t found—it’s developed through effort, mastery, and connection.

So instead of searching for your passion, start exploring things that interest you—even just a little. Focus on activities that make you feel fulfilled, allow you to grow, and develop your passions, while still leaving room for other parts of your life.

Together With Babbel
How Learning Protects Your Brain From Aging

You know that friend who switches effortlessly between English and Spanish at dinner, or the colleague who apologizes for their "rusty" French before proceeding to have a perfectly fluent conversation? They might be doing more than showing off—they could be building a fortress around their brain.

Learning and speaking multiple languages may provide significant protection against age-related cognitive decline and could potentially prevent dementia.

Researchers found that the constant mental gymnastics of switching between languages and suppressing one to use another creates a kind of cognitive cross-training that strengthens executive function and attention control.

The protective effects weren't just seen in people who learned multiple languages as children—the cognitive benefits appeared to accumulate across the entire lifespan whenever speaking another language.

Every time bilingual speakers choose which language to use, they're essentially doing a mini brain workout. They must activate the target language while inhibiting the others, engaging multiple neural networks simultaneously. This constant cognitive juggling act appears to build what scientists call "cognitive reserve"—essentially backup mental resources that help the brain compensate when age-related changes begin.

If you already know some of another language, begin using it more regularly—even if it's just ordering coffee or reading news headlines. It doesn’t have to be often, it just needs to be something. 

If you don’t know another language, it’s not too late to start—and Babbel makes it easy.

With Babbel, you can have real conversations in as little as three weeks. With Babbel’s bite-sized daily lessons, you can bring your language journey to the beach, on the plane, or anywhere your adventures take you.

No expensive classes. No gimmicky, game-ified apps. Just expert-crafted lessons proven to help you speak naturally and confidently.

As an APC reader, you can now access a lifetime Babel membership for just $199. 

With Babbel’s award-winning lessons, you can start speaking a new language with just 10 minutes of practice a day. Think of it as 10 fewer minutes on your social media and 10 more minutes make you better.

The lifetime deal is a limited-time offer. Start learning a new language today, and turn bite-size lessons into big-time brain protection. 

Adam’s Corner
The Myth of The Reset

It happened on a quiet morning in Cape Cod, one of those vacation days where time loosens and routines bend. I was in the gym—half out of habit, half out of curiosity—sampling machines like appetizers at a buffet. It’s something I love. Follow the habit of exercise, but break the habit of routine by trying every machine I don’t usually get to use. 

The equipment at this place was old. It looked like a scene from a high school gym in an '80s movie. I slid into a hamstring curl machine. Did a few sets and then started to test out the weight stack. My legs extended. I exhaled. And then—snap.

A metallic jolt, then pain. Not the kind you can walk off. The kind that radiates deep, like something that belongs in you has come undone.

There’s a reason machines get updates. Maybe I should’ve considered that before sliding into the guillotine. 

I stopped training and left the gym. I was hurt, but I was able to walk. So, I told myself it was just a strain and took a few days off. But something was off. I couldn’t sit right. I couldn’t hinge. I couldn’t trust my body.

Weeks passed. Then months. PT appointments. Creative training around the pain. I didn’t stop moving—but I stopped feeling like myself.

Eventually, I got the scan. The verdict: a torn glute.

There’s a particular ache that comes not from injury, but from doubt. I know it all too well. 

I’ve rehabbed some gnarly injuries before:
I broke my back twice, and some doctors told me I would never be active again.
I tore every ligament in my left knee in a ski accident, and post-surgery my left leg looked inhuman.
I’ve shredded a shoulder, had multiple concussions, and lost seasons to slow healing. 

I know setbacks and pain and the feeling of, “Oh, no — Not again!” However, I also know that each hardship has made me better in ways I could never have imagined. 

And yet, this injury lingered like it had something to prove.

My daughter was born a few months after the injury. Her newborn nights became a strange combination of joy and discomfort—her tiny body asleep on my chest while I shifted and winced, trying to find a position that didn’t feel like I was being punished for being alive.

But what was I going to do? Skip the snuggles? Miss the moment because my glute was mad?

I kept going. Even when it hurt. Even when it was slow. This wasn’t about toughness or having something to prove. In fact, I didn’t tell anyone. I wasn’t going to tarnish the miracle of our daughter, no matter how much I hurt. 

And that’s what no one tells you: Real life is impressionism. Forget the perfect paint strokes and embrace the art of life that is a little less polished. 

Gravity Is Working Against Me

Eventually, I flew to Los Angeles to see Heather Milligan, one of the best in the world at fixing what feels unfixable. She gave me exercises so simple that — if you didn’t know any better about what needed to happen to get better — they bordered on insulting.

We’re not even talking about glute bridges. This was heel slide territory, and lifting your leg just a few inches from the floor. I was teaching my muscles to fire when they had no desire to do so. 

These were movements that wouldn’t impress anyone on Instagram—but demanded a kind of discipline that never shows up in progress photos.

I did them anyway. Not because I believed they'd work overnight, but because not doing them felt like giving up.

But I did expect something.

If real life were a movie, the montage would start, and you’d see me getting stronger and better. The music would pick up, and you would know that the comeback was inevitable. 

But, instead of the Rocky theme song, the loop of John Mayer’s Gravity continued in the background. 

Gravity is working against me. And gravity wants to bring me down.

Nothing changed. A month passed. No miracles. Another month. Still aching.

All this time, I couldn’t squat or deadlift, two exercises that have been iron therapy for two decades. I felt like the Titanic meme, “It’s been 84 years…”

After 10 months of lingering pain, discomfort, and a lack of change, I started to wonder: Would this ever be the same again? Would I?

But there was no option to quit. Because I know the alternative is far worse. 

So, the only option was to give it my all. And then, if that ultimately didn’t work, to give my all to doctors and surgery. The only choice was to make my choice clear. 

And then—quietly and so subtly that you would miss it if you didn’t look close enough—the wins came.

I could sit through dinner without shifting.
I could pick up my daughter without bargaining.
I could sleep without waking up in pain.

And last week — 13 months after my injury — I deadlifted again.

Not my heaviest. Not even close. But it was an undeniable victory. However, the real win happened when it appeared I was losing and gravity was working against me. 

Don’t Start Over — Just Continue On

Here’s the lie we tell ourselves: That when something knocks us off course, we have to start over.

That if we miss a week of workouts, we’re back to zero.
That if we eat the wrong thing, we’ve undone everything.
That if life interrupts us, we’re broken.

But you don’t erase progress just because you’re in pain.
You don’t lose who you are just because your path looks different.

You don’t start over. You continue.

Progress isn’t a clean slate. It’s a messy, lived-in thing. It limps sometimes. It questions itself. It doubts, despairs, and then dares to try again.

Perfectionism tells you to burn it all down and start fresh.
Wisdom tells you to pivot. To adapt. To move forward with what you’ve got, what you experienced, and what you learned.

That’s not a reset. That’s resilience.

And it makes you who you are. Resets don’t allow you to lose. You erase the moment before the outcome is final.

I see this with my oldest son, Bode. He loves sports and sports video games. He’s a great athlete, and I love how he’s become better from his struggles. The bad practices and off games forced him to work harder. But when it comes to video games, if he’s about to lose, he wants to restart the game. 

But it’s the losses that teach you how to win — and it’s the losses that ferment the sweet nectar and joy of victory. 

We need opposites because they provide a perspective you can’t possibly understand and appreciate otherwise. 

The cold makes you enjoy the warmth.
Sadness gives context to joy.
Death makes us thankful for life. 

And yet, we live in a world obsessed with restarts that want to give you amnesia.
"Starting over Monday."
“The ultimate reset.”
"Back on track."
"New year, new me."

Every time you hit reset, you risk erasing everything that got you here—the knowledge, the growth, the endurance earned during the detour. 

Forgetting your mistakes only increases the likelihood that you’ll be stuck in a reset loop, meaning you’ll never learn anything other than how to hit reset. That’s not progress. It’s inaction masquerading as improvement. 

The trick isn’t to start over. The trick is to keep going, even when the going looks different from what you expected.

That’s why the most valuable thing I put into You Can’t Screw This Up is the idea of no “zero percent weeks.” 

Winning isn’t about doing everything right. It’s about not doing everything wrong. And the only wrong is if you quit and shut down. Moving forward, moving backwards — it’s all movement. And that means you’re getting something out of the experience. But if there is no action, then there is no lesson. 

Throughout my injury, I never stopped being someone who trains. That’s my identity. I just became someone who trains differently.

I wasn’t on pause. I was on a path that took a turn. A long, slow, humbling, frustrating-as-all-hell turn. 

So, I’ll say the thing we all feel but need to embrace: Detours suck. They are long, frustrating, and seemingly unnecessary.

And, here’s the funny thing about detours — they still lead somewhere. And if you follow the right path and don’t toss your goals and visions to the side, a detour still takes you to the desired destination, even if the route looks nothing like you imagined. 

So, if you’re feeling off track right now — if you’ve been out of the gym, off your routine, or struggling to “get back”— I want you to hear this:

You don’t need to go back to the beginning.
You’re not at zero.
You are not starting over.

You’re simply continuing and growing — with more experience, more awareness, more grit. 

The detour didn’t steal your progress. It is your progress. And you're still on the road. 

Because if you can find it in your soul to keep going, to avoid the lure of the reset, and pursue what you want, you will eventually find yourself in a better place. -AB 

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Publisher: Arnold Schwarzenegger​

Editors-in-chief: Adam Bornstein and Daniel Ketchell