The two sides of commitment
This is an entry from my journal, in which I elaborate on the distinction between doing something in earnest versus being content only with particular outcomes.
Local time is 19:20. I am typing this on the laptop. I will be without electricity in a few minutes. Days are getting shorter and I keep losing effective “power time”. More so when it is cloudy. Power will come back close to 08:00 tomorrow when the sun rises. It is harder to schedule meetings and to work on projects that demand several hours of uninterrupted computer activity with access to the Internet. In short, this is a state of affairs that is not convenient. It has been going on for too long already. Yet it does not disturb me. I understand it is part of a longer process of self-actualisation that has seen me relocate to my own house that I built, tend to my land and, yes, face the consequences of my actions with courage and confidence. This is what I chose in full conscience that it would not be easy.
Challenges and setbacks do not distract me from my original goal: to live in a manner that makes sense to me; a manner that is consistent with who I am. I like that I have to assume responsibility for my deeds and that I do what I must without expecting external validation. I appreciate that I cannot avoid my duties and that the here-and-now of my presence comes with material implications. It makes everything feel more real because of how consequential it is. If I become lazy or distracted and do not do what I ought to, then there is nobody to pick up the slack. The world has a logic of its own. It is not waiting for me. If rainy days are coming, then floods may happen. Thus my flood-control initiative must be timely and thorough. Through hardship and the controlled discomfort it entails, I avoid complacency.
The electricity constraints have been with me since I first got here a bit over two years ago. I expect to have a new battery in ~1 month. It will make it possible for me to rely on electricity from my off-grid solar panels throughout the day or, at least, for many more hours than I do now. I have been working towards this eventuality from the beginning. I knew my original setup was not the best one possible. Yet I had to be pragmatic and to make maximal use of the available resources, adopting an incrementalist outlook of iterating on the quality of my infrastructure whenever possible. Two years later, after saving the money, I am realising my ambition. The hut is on track to be a decent place by the average standard and I remain committed to put all my energy into making it happen.
Committing wholeheartedly to longer-term projects has a benign effect on me. It reduces the cognitive burden of always having to decide what to do with my available time, as the decision has already been made for me. Since this decision was adopted with full faith in the project, I do not feel unsettled about it. It is not like being ruled by another. Indeed, that would make me rebel. It is about discipline. If I am consistent, if my ideas are clear, if I am thinking things through, then what I thought of as appropriate in the recent past will continue to be so in the immediate future, for as long as the prevailing conditions do not change radically.
Nothing in life is purely good or bad. Ours is a world of admixture. It is then a matter of degree and of finding the right balance: I do not want to have so many commitments that I become a slave of my prior plans. Though I do need to tend to projects that require upkeep so as to keep myself sharp. For example, I know that I will be going on a walk with my dogs in the morning and then again in the evening. There is no uncertainty. It is stable. There is less scope for doing things on a whimsy; things that are typically not thought through. As such, it is less likely that I will have to live with the consequences of actions that I harbour regrets for.
I am aware of how surplus energy is inevitably misused. The idle mind will find ways to create some adventure out of the dull moments. It reacts to boredom without working towards anything specific. There will be no framework, no bigger picture to speak of. Because of how haphazard the reaction is, its effects will most likely not contribute towards something worth keeping. Cumulatively, unfocused and ill-thought deeds create impediments to our life and engender a sense of self-loathing. Those we can avoid when we channel our vitality to anything that demands long-term maintenance. Then there is little room left for self-harming one-off events. Even if they do happen on occasion, they are not frequent enough to throw us off balance.
To commit to something is to remain focused on it. It is to be unequivocal about your feelings towards it. You do not go back and forth, nor remain indecisive. No. You carry out your responsibilities with alacrity. You do it because you are consistent. It was your choice, which you should have considered carefully. There is no going back. When you catch yourself faking it, when you realise that your heart is not there, you know that your commitment is tokenistic and of an aspirational sort: you would rather be doing something else, yet pretend to be caring for whatever reason. The honest thing to do is to quit until you find something that is genuinely emanating from within.
I am committed to my lifestyle. No regrets; no apologies. I am aware of its constraints and am living within my means. Whatever costs are clear and I accept them. There is no second thought that occurs, no “what if I do this instead”. I do not get distracted. The focus empowers me to have a clear idea of what each day involves: spend quality time with the dogs, work on the computer, continue with whatever infrastructure or gardening initiative, and then figure out how the remaining free time is to be spent.
What I am not committed to and ultimately what I remain aloof from are specific outcomes. There is a distinction between commitment to projects and commitment to results. The former is within my control, assuming the project is realistic: I do my part in earnest. Whereas I cannot control the prevailing circumstances that inform or determine any given state of affairs. I may be enthusiastic about my manual labour tomorrow morning, though the weather might be rainy. I will not feel dejected and shall not complain about the fact. Instead, I will check back again when the prevailing conditions are favourable. If they never go my way again, then I shall accept that as well and try whatever I can within those new circumstances.
Situational awareness is the key, else to pay attention to the factors whose interplay constitutes the given case. It is how one remains adaptable, for you can only change in response to the known, optimising for what is or is very likely to be and to become. This is about having presence in your present so that you anticipate when to correct your course and be aware of the extent to which such an adjustment is necessary. Too much adaptability is not “course correction” anymore, owning to how disjointed the results will be.
What was before and what might come in some distant future are ultimately irrelevant, as what matters is my current action. The plan is still there, as is the memory of what has transpired. I do not forget where I came from. The experiences along the journey have forged my character and made me who I am. Nor do I lose sight of the objective: it is my lodestar. Again, there needs to be a balance. Think of when you go on a hike. You do not just orient yourself by observing the stars. You also check the terrain to confirm that you are safe in your steps. If your eyes are fixed on either the sky or the ground, then you are doing it wrong, and shall be punished accordingly by sustaining an injury.
Commitment, then, is about projects not results. I give my undivided attention to something that springs from within. I see it as my duty to put forward the best version of myself. I am not going to fool around, to dither and delay, to be absent-minded, and to find excuses for my ensuing sloppiness. This is how I conduct myself in honesty. Whatever happens beside my kernel of control is governed by superior forces. I cannot beat myself up when the world does not bend to my will or conspire in my favour. The cosmos does not revolve around me. I am not special in any way. When things do not go my way despite my best efforts, I remain calm in the knowledge that I did all I could until I faced pushback from greater powers.
What I will be upset about is when I give myself license to cheat, to pick the ostensibly easy way out whose pernicious costs are hidden, to pretend that there are no consequences for ill-considered actions, and to then rationalise my conduct as benign and desirable. I demand commitment to projects because I expect conscience of the fact that as embodied minds we cannot escape into a domain of pure thought and must instead subsist through continuous actions. There is clarity of thinking, which is clear enough to be practical. “Practical” is that which pertains to “praxis”, the Greek word for action. It is sufficient comprehension of the relevant magnitudes, such that the impetus is there to be decisive and unyielding.
I do not promise myself much and keep low expectations. When I say something, I mean it and shall do it to the extent I can. Tomorrow is another day of carrying out what I have committed to. I shall reinforce a staircase I built on the side of the hill and then set up support structures for grapevines that are growing on the side. The vines grow quickly and will climb on the rods within a few months of springtime. I will tie ropes from one end to the other to guide their growth. By next September, there will be grapes to collect, all laid out along the staircase. I am happy to witness the workings of the world and to know that every patch of land here embodies hours of my most sincere labour.