You're looking at a relationship, habit, or obsession that feels passionate but keeps you from self-direction, and you want to tell attachment from being swept along.

The second circle's punishment is exact: "The infernal hurricane that never rests / Hurtles the spirits onward in its rapine." The sinners are not resting together. They are blown — never able to stop, choose, or land. The passion that governed them is now shown for what it was: being governed. The contrapasso names the distinction love tries to blur. Love chooses. Being blown doesn't. Love can stand still. The wind can't.