7/14/18
I've been thinking about the idea of commitment. what that means to me, and what I feel committed to.
There are some things that don't require the same level of effort to remain dedicated to. My writing is a bit like that. And my friendships. These things require work, but not in the same way other things do.
There are some things I have not committed to, and then of those things, some I wish I could commit to. Like my health. But, for example, finding a romantic partner is not on my list of priorities. I'm committed to work, but not to the point that it is the center of my focus. Not to the point where I'm willing to give up more of my time for it. When I'm not at work, I'm not at work. And even scheduling in the types of trainings my employer wants me to complete each year is difficult, because it means giving more of my time for less money.
I think the trouble with commitment is that I don't know what's really going to stick. I have no doubt that writing and singing and friendship and family will always be an essential part of my life and well-being. These things provide me with something that makes life more bearable, and allow me to appreciate simple joys. Even when there's pain, it's fulfilling to engage with these things. I don't mind the work that goes into them. They're important to me.
But there are plenty of other things that have been part of phases or chapters or moods that were ephemeral. or were a temporary means to an end, and when that end came it was time to move onto something else.
I know that nothing lasts forever, but there are certain constants while I'm still learning and growing. The things I'm committed to are in some way linked to the core values that I've developed, so again, it doesn't feel like a choice I have made, but rather a sense of dedication that comes from the reward those things offer in return. Sanity. Peace. Tranquility. Joy. Merriment. Those are the things that matter to me. So much else seems less important. it isn't that I can't imagine myself dedicating a large chunk of my life to a specific, altruistic cause. but there are so many places where I feel my energy is needed and appreciated. so those tend to be the directions I'm committed to.
perhaps it's that the word carries a connotation for me. like ambition, the way commitment sounds turns me off. it makes me question. it makes me rebel on some level. I think that's just because, in a capitalistic society, there is so much that's demanded of me in terms of being able to live. The things I'm committed to tend not to be lucrative. they tend not to provide for me in the basic necessity sense (although one might argue love is a basic necessity, and socialization). Even with the relationships I'm committed to, I have to maintain boundaries that support my personal needs. I'm not committed to writing so much as committed to the process of exfoliating my thoughts and working through my emotions. "Career" was another word with a negative connotation for me, because I never liked the idea of being locked into something for many years. So again, there is simply a part of me that rebels against the notion of doing one thing for a long time.
my sister, grace, has asked to meet me later. we talked about meeting at my mom's house, which would give me a chance to check on things there while mom and hope are still out traveling the world. but then grace suggested we meet for ice cream, which is something I had planned on doing anyway today. the air is starting to shift, and the clouds are overhead blocking the sun's rays. It's fixing to rain. The cats are both curled up in their respective spots, and aside from the occasional text message, I am focused on the scene before me, the rustling leaves the background to my tablet screen.
grace seemed alright yesterday, but she's back to feeling trapped again today. I get sad sometimes that I don't have the motivation to be more supportive for her. But then I also struggle with feeling resentful that I have to extend myself because of choices she made. I had to learn how to be better with my boundaries in that relationship, because as much as i'm committed to being close with my sister, and playing a role as an aunt, I also value my own space, and the time I have designated to myself for my own mental health needs.
people sometimes ask me if I'm doing anything with singing still. It makes me a bit sad to have to explain that aside from singing in the shower and writing the occasional new song, I'm not that actively engaged with my singing. But again, I made a decision to focus my energy elsewhere, because it seemed fruitless to keep trying to put work into something that I needed more help than was available with.
There are some things that don't require the same level of effort to remain dedicated to. My writing is a bit like that. And my friendships. These things require work, but not in the same way other things do.
There are some things I have not committed to, and then of those things, some I wish I could commit to. Like my health. But, for example, finding a romantic partner is not on my list of priorities. I'm committed to work, but not to the point that it is the center of my focus. Not to the point where I'm willing to give up more of my time for it. When I'm not at work, I'm not at work. And even scheduling in the types of trainings my employer wants me to complete each year is difficult, because it means giving more of my time for less money.
I think the trouble with commitment is that I don't know what's really going to stick. I have no doubt that writing and singing and friendship and family will always be an essential part of my life and well-being. These things provide me with something that makes life more bearable, and allow me to appreciate simple joys. Even when there's pain, it's fulfilling to engage with these things. I don't mind the work that goes into them. They're important to me.
But there are plenty of other things that have been part of phases or chapters or moods that were ephemeral. or were a temporary means to an end, and when that end came it was time to move onto something else.
I know that nothing lasts forever, but there are certain constants while I'm still learning and growing. The things I'm committed to are in some way linked to the core values that I've developed, so again, it doesn't feel like a choice I have made, but rather a sense of dedication that comes from the reward those things offer in return. Sanity. Peace. Tranquility. Joy. Merriment. Those are the things that matter to me. So much else seems less important. it isn't that I can't imagine myself dedicating a large chunk of my life to a specific, altruistic cause. but there are so many places where I feel my energy is needed and appreciated. so those tend to be the directions I'm committed to.
perhaps it's that the word carries a connotation for me. like ambition, the way commitment sounds turns me off. it makes me question. it makes me rebel on some level. I think that's just because, in a capitalistic society, there is so much that's demanded of me in terms of being able to live. The things I'm committed to tend not to be lucrative. they tend not to provide for me in the basic necessity sense (although one might argue love is a basic necessity, and socialization). Even with the relationships I'm committed to, I have to maintain boundaries that support my personal needs. I'm not committed to writing so much as committed to the process of exfoliating my thoughts and working through my emotions. "Career" was another word with a negative connotation for me, because I never liked the idea of being locked into something for many years. So again, there is simply a part of me that rebels against the notion of doing one thing for a long time.
my sister, grace, has asked to meet me later. we talked about meeting at my mom's house, which would give me a chance to check on things there while mom and hope are still out traveling the world. but then grace suggested we meet for ice cream, which is something I had planned on doing anyway today. the air is starting to shift, and the clouds are overhead blocking the sun's rays. It's fixing to rain. The cats are both curled up in their respective spots, and aside from the occasional text message, I am focused on the scene before me, the rustling leaves the background to my tablet screen.
grace seemed alright yesterday, but she's back to feeling trapped again today. I get sad sometimes that I don't have the motivation to be more supportive for her. But then I also struggle with feeling resentful that I have to extend myself because of choices she made. I had to learn how to be better with my boundaries in that relationship, because as much as i'm committed to being close with my sister, and playing a role as an aunt, I also value my own space, and the time I have designated to myself for my own mental health needs.
people sometimes ask me if I'm doing anything with singing still. It makes me a bit sad to have to explain that aside from singing in the shower and writing the occasional new song, I'm not that actively engaged with my singing. But again, I made a decision to focus my energy elsewhere, because it seemed fruitless to keep trying to put work into something that I needed more help than was available with.
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