Admittedly, I’m trying to make the best of time spent in bed right now. Something wicked this way came, and just so happens to have taken-up residence in my digestive tract. No wonder I had nightmares and didn’t sleep last night. It was my intestines coming to kill me (not my hairdresser…thank god…would hate to lose her!). Over the past few weeks, a series of wonderful and surprising events have led me to ponder the concept of the fruits that commitment can bring one’s way. I’d made a comment about being committed to a friend, who retorted: “Erika, we always knew you were crazy, but it’s nice to see you’re finally doing something about it.” Said entirely in jest (bitch) I think she may be on to something, though. It’s a funny word: committed. A few meanings:
- It alludes to being dropped-off at the funny farm, kinda like a mental health donation to charity;
- It can reference one’s purposeful devotion to a path or issue.
Here’s where I’ll get argumentative (so long as my intestines will permit), as I believe each instance of commitment shares a bit of both definitions. When we place ourselves in pursuit of something with that dogged determination that leaves no room for anything but success, there’s a bit of “crazy” that gets mixed in there. It’s almost an essential ingredient! I mean, how are we to reach out, grasp the seemingly impossible or out-of-reach and bring it into our realm to have and to hold if we’re not willing to get just a little bit nuts about it? Success doesn’t just fall into our laps and nor is it handed to us on a silver platter. It’s a series of events, of days, months, and years, actions, reactions, steps and setbacks that bring us to critical mass in one way or another, delivering results that give us the good ‘ol Ralph Waldo Emerson:
“If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with success in uncommon hours.”
And to pull another quote out of my Magic Box of Brilliant Things Erika Didn’t Say:
“Three failures denote uncommon strength. A weakling has not enough grit to fail thrice.” -Minna Thomas Antrim
To face failure and learn to embrace it and use it for the fuel of laughter is no easy task though my fingers and keyboard may make it out to be. It’s in that moment that adversity rears its ugly head that I find the craziness in commitment oh-so-delightful. It’s that moment of shift. refocus. concentration. dedication. forsaking of paths that will take us from our goals and not to them. and the fortitude to carry those things through. If for no other reason than, as humans, we have unlimited potential. Potential so incredible and running so deep in our veins that its startling. Unfathomable. Which is perhaps why we opt sometimes for insanity as defined by Einstein: Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Commitment requires change, which in turn requires a leap of faith. We’ve all gotta be just a little bit crazy when it comes to delving into the unknown. If we believe wholeheartedly that our desires lie across the chasm of doubt that turns back more men than not, taking that leap is the final step to releasing yourself from the shackles of the pedestrian, letting you break into a full-on run towards your ambitions. (Jesus, that was a long sentence.) So, yeah. Commitment. All in all, I might be just a little bit crazy, but it gets me where I need to go and in grand style. I can laugh about my stumbles, smile about my successes, and know that when people call me “crazy,” it’s a compliment. I never want to be stuck in the little padded room of insanity, as there’s only one way in and one way out. I prefer to make my own doorways to life’s hallway these days. Right now, I remain committed to my bed as whatever bacterial or viral wickedness has its way with me. Crazy? Not so much. But it did make me committed to write this week’s blog entry.