Why commit?

This month of November, I committed to writing a draft once a day.

Today is November 13, and I missed quite a few days in a row.

The thing is: I don’t really regret it.

The days that I didn’t get any writing in?

One of those days, I spent with a new friend over a home-cooked dinner of pasta and strangely healthy desserts, where we spoke late into the night of religion, politics, abortion, morals, and mental health.

Another of those days, I danced at a concert of an artist I didn’t know, conversing with a friend over her dreams and newfound purpose.

In October, I wanted to commit to something. I wanted to say what I wanted to do and then do what I said I would do. That’s because commitment is a muscle; it’s true. These past few days, I’ve felt that muscle atrophy a little.

And yet, I’ve been over-committing.

1. I want to have deep, wonderful conversations with new friends and old.
2. I want to have new experiences every day.
3. I want to explore and push my boundaries.
4. I want to deepen my yoga practice.
5. I want to move full speed ahead with Bra Theory.
6. I want to get enough sleep and rest in, every day.
7. I want to write every day.

I woke up the other day, ready to sleep in and miss yoga practice because I had stayed up late drinking wine with a friend (and missed yet another day of writing).

I knew I had to drop something.

But what?

Last week, I was thinking about dropping writing. This week, I realized that I finished up all the loose ends I’d been worrying about, and was now looking for things to do.

That’s what life is — ups and downs, respites and storms. Things are always changing. Some weeks will be busier than others. And there will always be trade-offs: an hour of sleep here for a heart-to-heart with a good friend, there.

I think I’m okay knowing that. I’m okay getting knocked off the wagon during a storm. It’s all part of the process of learning how to be you and do you, even in the ups and downs.

I used to be afraid to commit myself to something because I wasn’t sure that I could always follow up. Well, here I am. I didn’t do what I said I was going to do. Maybe one day I will, but it’ll take a few tries to get there — and I’m okay with that.

I’m recommitting myself to writing every day. I’ll probably fall off the wagon, and have a few stories to tell because of it.