I do not want to write this post. There are many things I would rather be doing.
I would rather be taking a nap, even though it would be my second nap this afternoon.
I would rather be sitting on my deck next to the waterfalls in my backyard. The weather is beautiful.
I would rather be reading. I’m in the middle of a good novel, and I want to find out what happens.
I want to make spicy sweet-potato soup. I generally don’t like cooking, but I have this recipe, and it sounds delicious.
I would rather be watching TV. I just downloaded an episode of Orphan Black and can’t wait to see it.
You get the picture.
So why am I here, writing this post instead of doing any of those other things? One reason: Because I have made a commitment to writing.
It would be wonderful to say that I love writing all the time. That nothing makes my heart sing more than sitting down to a blank page. That it’s just plain fun stringing words together. That the very sound of language is exhilarating. Sometimes, all of those things are true. But what is also true is that none of them are what actually gets me to the page every day.
What does is this: Years ago, I made a commitment. Not a commitment to my readers—I didn’t have any yet—or even to myself, but to writing. I made a decision to dedicate my time to this particular craft.
When you make a commitment to something, it doesn’t mean you do it when you feel like it and it’s raining outside anyway, so why not? It means you do it unless you genuinely can’t. It means you stick with it regardless.
The spouse who stays even when things get tough; the moms and dads who take the time to read a bedtime story despite having had an awful day; the friend who gives up concert tickets to take care of you when you’re sick—all of these people are operating on the same principle. They’re not doing what feels good in the moment. They’re doing what they’re committed to—marriage, parenthood, friendship.
Make your commitment today.
Dedicate yourself to writing not just when it feels good or comes easily, but when you’d rather be sleeping or jogging or enjoying a nice chardonnay.
For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. In sickness and in health. If you think those vows are just for weddings, think again. Nobody knows their meaning better than a writer
Did you write this for me?
This could be titled “Me, Procrastination With A Capital P.” I have never thought of making the commitment in quite the way you have suggested. I will give it a try.
Go for it, Sofia!
Hi There,
Like any vow it comes from a place of love or of honor. A loyalty of a devotion that is sacred to oneself. Your commitment to writing is sacred to you, and at times it demands an exchange of efforts. Do one thing instead of another, you’re distributing your time to what ultimately brings you joy. Since if it was a drudgery you would commit yourself to something else entirely. Consider it as “Tough Love” to yourself and your craft needs consistent practice for it to flourish within you.
Otherwise you are pursuing something you think you care about, but don’t.
Well said, Ivan.
I am hard pressed to identify with writers who have writer’s block or are easily diverted to tasks other than writing. When I am faced with a blank sheet of paper words come forth, I may only have a dim vision of what I see, but none the less the words come forth. Things around me stimulate writing. Changes in weather, music, sounds, scenery, people, and events all push me in different directions. How can someone be here in life, even when asleep, and not find stimulants for writing?
In my world, these things often seems to overwhelm me; bring tears to my eyes, smiles to my face, and heart felt reactions that fill me beyond full. I often pray that things around me do not overwhelm me and I ask that they leave room inside, for just me.
How wonderful that writing comes to you so abundantly! Thanks for sharing this!