In December, my wife, Elaine, and I attended a 50th-anniversary concert of the Rolling Stones at Brooklyn, New York’s new Barclays Center. They’re often referred to as the Strolling Bones these days, and with good reason. They’re old. You can’t help noticing how weathered their faces look. So it’s all the more amazing to watch Mick Jagger, at 69, strutting around the stage just like he did half a century ago. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He and I are about the same age. “Why is he doing this?” I asked myself. “He doesn’t need the money. What is it?”
Then it hit me. I dropped down into my seat and started to laugh. “Why are you laughing?” Elaine shouted over the din. “I just figured out what’s been driving me all these years,” I shouted back.
As I told her later, I’d had an epiphany. I’d suddenly understood the meaning of the word passion. Mick Jagger, I realized, keeps doing what he does for the same reason that I keep doing what I do: because he has to. Performing defines him. He has to do it in order to feel alive–which is also why I start and build businesses.
Dispatches From The Front 