This month, I’m going to exercise everyday. I’ve made statements like that regularly before today. It’s one of a long list of promises or commitments that I make to myself, only to fall short time and time again. I’ m going to stay away from chocolate cookies. I’m going to finish that novel. I’m going to be organized for tax season.

In fairness, sometimes I do succeed in sticking to goals: flossing, calling loved ones, eating a salad. In the spectrum of non-commitedness, (Is that even a word?) I most likely fall in the lower half.

I do admire those who can set a target and remain on course. They accomplish so much while they make it look easy.
What separates us in these areas of focus and perseverance? Habits? Misdirection? Genetics?
Admittedly, pondering doesn’t help me check things off my never-ending list. I wish there was a support group for “non-committers”. Then again, members would probably not follow-through with setting up regular meetings.

JUST SOUTH OF COMMITMENT 

When random moods melt granite resolve,
When grindstone bumps noses out of joint,
When straight lines are dotted, leading from point “A” to minor ‘a”,
I’m standing just south of commitment.

When goals over jubilate the starting line,
When time moves the end zone and puts a full Nelson on determination,
When talents for avoiding tarnish the golden destiny,
I’m standing just south of commitment.

When double vision causes indeterminate consequences,
When high energy is distracted by fingertip grips,
When the ladder’s first rung is seduced by inertia,
I’m standing just south of commitment.

B. Toner, March 2023