Commitment, like love, is a verb.” Commitment does not exist without action.
I offer the following thoughts on “Commitment,” as much to re-inspire myself as to inspire you-
“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back– Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth that ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.”
-W.H. Murray, Scottish Himalyan Expedition, 1951
“Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.”
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe?
GO FOR IT!
You might also enjoy: Breaking Trail, If
A poem by Shel Silverstein (1930-1999)
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
by Shel Silverstein, 1974
When I start slipping into seriousness, I turn to Shel Silverstein to lighten up. Reading his poems with kids is better than blowing bubbles on San francisco’s BART train.
Want more fun? Watch this link on YouTube-
You might also enjoy: Inspiration
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY, 1875
One of two poems I turn to for inspiration, (the other is “If” by Rudyard Kipling)
Here’s a link to a powerful reading by Morgan Freeman from the movie “Invictus”, in which he plays Nelson Mandela.
I often return to Marianne Williamson’s thoughts on fear when feeling small and lost. Her words never fail to spark the light of hope within me.
“Our Deepest Fear” by Marianne Williamson
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?
Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so other people won’t feel insecure around you.
We are born to manifest the glory that is within us. It is not within some of us, it is in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear our presence automatically liberates.” others.”
-Marianne Williamson, “A Return to Love, Reflections on the Principles of ‘A Course in Miracles’”