There are moments when I feel like I should be “committed”.  I have always run from those moments, until recently.  The term “commitment issues” has always frightened me.  That is as honest as I can be.  

I have feared commitment because I did not understand commitment.  I now have no need to look that word up in a dictionary.  I can trust my judgment, use my common sense, and know I am on the right path.  I have feared writing; not knowing what words might appear.  I have feared life, not knowing if I was prepared.  I have feared insanity, not knowing if I was sane.  I have feared death and I am alive.

I do not know all the answers; I just need to ask the right questions, of myself, to know what is inside of me.  I am committed to being alive.  I am a writer.  I am now committing to my writing.  I have many basic human needs and one of them is to write.  I was afraid to let it manifest; I am not sure why.  Then I realized, to be a writer is to be an instrument.  My body, my thoughts, my spirit all come together to make me.  I am the vessel.

Having determined this, I have made a decision to try to publish.  I may be successful, or I may not; time will tell.  I can face a fear to meet my needs.  That is who I am.  I believe that anything is possible.  I believe I am a writer.  I believe I can achieve this long-time, now committed goal.

I am now, once again, content.