Sometimes, we stop doing things we enjoy.
Perhaps it is because there are better things, new things, more challenging things instead. What once was an obstacle is now a routine. Time is limited, and we panic over what we have left in the day, the year, the lockdown, our lives.
Or perhaps we are scared. Perhaps we fear abandoning yet another something we thought we were good at, another slither of potential. Perhaps we are scared of getting bored because we always get bored, because we always drop out, because we always suffer the pain of failing again.
It could be perfectionism; we’re not as good as we want to be at something. We can’t lift as heavy, can’t code as fast, can’t write as eloquently. The crippling nature of self-doubt piles on while we shed the time we waste not doing.
What if we’re just not that focused? What if those who succeed at our talents — the founders and novelists — what if they are just better at tuning out distractions, better and just getting it done. Do we lack passion?
And yet, all of these thoughts, they are all intrusive. They are all: wrong. Inferiority and fear will tarnish our judgment on what is valuable. On what we should commit to.
Anyone can commit, however strongly they claim they cannot. We forget that commitment is not a chore. Commitment is what makes the things we enjoy reliably enjoyable. Commitment is a motivation.
We get good at the things we do. The things we practice, through terrible mistakes and experimentation. The only way to fight our self-doubts, to fight our obsessive introspections, and to prove our instinct is good, is to do a lot. If we enjoy gaming, pull many triggers; if we enjoy sport, kick many balls; if we enjoy writing, tap many keys. We must fight to reach the point where our instinct is satisfied. And if we are committed, we are motivated to chase the impossible goal of meeting our own taste.
We can build schedules or download apps, but these are only tricks to make us believe we will finish what we start. If we truly are dedicated to something, we won’t need to manipulate our commitment.
I want to commit to writing, yet again.