Commitment

Yesterday afternoon, I read this in a book:

"The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating -- in work, in play, in love" 

- Anne Morris

 I thought about it all day, and all day today, because it really resonated with me. I was thinking hard about it as I drove home today.

When I got home tonight, I looked it up. Here's the full quote:

"The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating -- in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around like rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life" - Anne Morris

Wow, that's even better.

I was thinking about it so strongly, because I've committed to a couple things recently... a new exercise habit, an eating habit.

But somehow it wasn't right for me and I was getting really stressed out.

I was getting stuck in this hate spiral where I liked how I felt physically, but mentally I was really unhappy. And I couldn't figure it out. I felt really pressured and paranoid about what I was doing, and I felt like a big failure. Even though I was technically doing all the things I had said I would do, and wasn't failing by any outside measure.

I think what Morris says is true: when you commit to something, it really does free you up. You don't have to question should I do this or that, you've decided a goal for yourself. You work for something, love something, enjoy something. You decide that, and then you are free to explore the nuances of that thing. Even when I was busy hating on my choices, I was free from questioning my choice. When I chose to step away from a commitment, that was an entirely new, and equally freeing choice.

Next Thursday, my latest commitment ends. I'll graduate school with my Masters in Library Science. It's taken me 3 years, which is about right for me. Nothing I've done has stayed good for longer than three years. No job, no school, no relationship -- every time they hit the 3 year mark, things went wrong.

So I'm glad that I'm done. I'm afraid of commitment, in a certain light. I'm afraid of contracts and leases, of being legally tied down. Having an apartment even freaks me out, not that golden opportunities have ever pounded at my door and demanded that I pack my bags and rush off on adventure, but still, you never know.  

I'm less afraid of classes and experiences -- things where you can run away if you really need to, but at cost. It's easier to weigh the cost/benefit to that situation, because you can put numbers on it. I'm afraid of personal commitments, because I hate to let people down or disappoint them, and vice versa. And there is no way to attach numbers to feelings. Regardless of fear, I still commit to classes and experiences and people, because I find those things to be the most rewarding, and generally worth the risk, and absolutely freeing in terms of being able to pour my soul into something.

I recognized a long time ago that I couldn't second-guess myself. Once I make a decision, it's difficult to change, because I'm putting my heart into it. I don't make decisions lightly, even though it seems like it. Always there is evaluation, a long process of thinking and watching from the sidelines, before I decide to let something into my life and grasp it with both hands. I want to commit and stick through with something to the end. You could call it stupid, or loyal, or whatever you want. It's me, in the end.

But now my commitment is done. Goal accomplished. Classes completed. So even though that risk (my risk of time and finances) is now gone, some of my freedom is gone too. Which is weird because I'm also gaining lots of free time... which of course begs the question, do these commitments just serve as a time-sucking distraction from another gaping hole in your soul? & so on...

Now, I worry about my internal critic, and about the choices I'll need to make soon. I'm just over 3 years into my current job, and it's showing. In my thought patterns, in my diary, in my daily patterns, I've seen the 3-year-mark tick over. I've felt the return of Saturn. I feel my soul tugged in several directions -- some of them healthy, some of them destructive, some unrealistic, some too easy.

I've talked about this a little bit with the cat I'm babysitting.

She seems to understand.