I read about NaBloPoMo and considered doing it. And then not doing it, and then doing it, and then not doing it. I decided to do it and then got busy with other things until 11:30pm. At that point, I realized I had to either commit to starting or let it pass altogether.
Committing to starting is the first commitment. After that comes commitment to maintaining a goal, and commitment to finishing the project.
It’s something I alternately reach for and struggle against, confusing commitment with regulation. Regulations have often been imposed by outside forces under the noble guise of helping me grow into a better person, a person with better routines, a person who can commit. A dutiful, responsible citizen.
Looking back, though, I’ve never really had a problem with commitment. My resistance to it is a feeble cover for another resistance: resisting the pressure to achieve goals that were never fully my own. How can I blame myself for having a faltering commitment to other people’s goals for me? Honestly, that sounds absurd, but it seems to be a pattern many fall into.
So I’m here, and I’m typing, because writing more often, more consistently, and hopefully – eventually – writing better as well, those have all been goals of mine. These are things I’ve wanted my whole life, but that have only more recently come into sharp focus.
A blog post every day for a month – can I do it? Honestly, I don’t know. But today, I commit to starting, and tomorrow I’ll see about the rest.