You see, this is exactly the sort of thing that terrifies me: Here I am, sitting here blogging for the first time in two weeks. As much as I hate admitting it, I have some level of commitment relative to this blog (not commitment
to this blog--it's an inanimate object). And it's a commitment I need to make good on. Otherwise, I've failed. Otherwise, people will later say, "Hey, yeah, remember that one time Peter started a blog to keep us all updated on his life in Japan--and then totally quit. Yeah, I don't know how many times I clicked on his link hoping for a new blog before I gave finally up. I love the guy, but yeah, he's just not cut out for anything long-term, if you catch my drift..." Now don't get distracted from the main point of what I'm saying: I don't have any particular fears associated with not making good on this blog thing, merely a general fear of "failing." And don't get distracted by that either, for whatever degree of fear of failure I may have--it's not the main thing either (or at least I am willing to pretend it's not if only for the time being). What I am talking about is the fact that I started this blog, told people about it, wrote posts in it for a while, a few of which may even be halfway interesting--and now, boom, I find myself in the span of a few quick weeks standing here ready to raise the white flag of surrender. What did me in?
I'll tell you--I got involved with something that demands consistent effort, something that needs maintenance. And to be honest, I didn't measure out the weight of such a burden beforehand. In fact, I didn't even eye-ball the weight--I jumped right in, saying, "I want a stinkin blog. To blazes with any nets or snares the thing may throw on me--I shall write indeed!!!"
So here I sit. So here sits I, staving off abject failure only by making prose of my precarious balancing act on the last, weathered footstep of blog oblivion. In fact, even that saving grace is in danger of abortion: I am close to being utterly and banally self-reflective. So let me move on to thing I have been wanting to say!
I cannot stand being tied down, even to something as unintrusive and manageable as this blog. Many times, it's true, I am happy enough to blog away my night and consider it gain, but at moments like the present, I simply despise those shackles. But that's not the main thing either. (Why do I have so much trouble sticking to my main point. Am I always this off-track and simply don't recognize it, or is tonight an exception...?)
I simply want to draw out this subtle but powerful axiom: Sometimes, and maybe many times, action implies commitment. Though it's often unstated, one simply cannot get around this truism. If you ask a girl out on a few dates, well then on some level you've made some kind of commitment (and the same if you agree to go on those dates). You can't simply stop calling and ignore her for the rest of your natural life--somehow you know that's wrong. If you start to train for a marathon, even if you never tell another soul about it, then quit a few weeks later--there you go, somewhere within that complex soul of yours, you will almost certainly feel a pang of conscience, a wave of just-above-lukewarm shame or indignation toward self. Ask the woman who started college and then quit simply because she didn't like the load. (Quitting out of sacrifice for some greater good is an entirely different matter, I think.) Though she may never admit to having signed any such contract, at the end of the day--if she's honest--she'll admit that somewhere, somehow, she has spat upon a duty that deserved to be honored and is in some measure receiving payment for that infidelity--if only to the tune of $5.15 an hour. It's just in us. Unless we're fiends or blackguards through and through (and most people aren't) or unless we have bought so completely into kicking around blame into everyone's eyes but our own (which is a form of grand fiendishness in itself), then we understand and know and are bound by this principle of obligation through action.
I cannot pass up saying that this seems to me to be a pretty significant piece of the puzzle in explaining why so many guys of my generation are so "apathetic" or willing to act only when ordered. Very simply, they have grown to despise thoroughly those subtle yanks of the strings of implied obligation. Whose hands it is that have been tormenting them with those little jerks is hard to say, but I would wager that a great percentage of the time they have belonged to people who were very close to them and who loved them very much indeed--even often to the point of stifling.
Surely then, mustn't there be an alternative to this terrible trend? There is indeed! It is a bifurcated road. First, mothers and girlfriends and anyone else who is guilty of such manipulation (and yes, I think women tend to do this more than men, just as men tend to slide into listlessness and worthless torpor more often than women) have to exercise prudence. Pull your loved one around this time--and then the next--and (my, this is
effective) the next--and then by all means do it some more--and (my, this is fun!) pretty soon those puppets strings will be so twisted and frayed not even the greatest of masters will be able to again wrangle them toward any productive end. And the puppet is far from improved himself. And the second thing--and this is honestly where the bulk of the responsibility and the greatest need lies--is this: Get some wisdom, you fools! Find out for yourself what obligations are there lurking in the shadows of the days. Don't overcommit yourself, and don't let twisted minds (even if only twisted a little, through love) twist your own mind--though folly in some measure must be accepted because of love (and I am deeply indebted to all of the people who put up with my folly daily and at every turn--and every post).
That is all I shall pontificate for today. I have made good on my duty to this blog, if only for today. And that'll do, pig, that'll do. Peace out!
Peter
P.S. Please send me a comment if you actually succeed in reading all of this--boy howdy, it wound up being long!
