Commitment

Any minute now, the planet Mercury will move out of retrograde. Forward movement will resume. Communication, in all its forms, will cease to be garbled, stunted and misinterpreted. Contracts can be safely signed. Commitments can be made. Unexpected delays will dissolve. Panties can be unbunched.

Early this morning, in anticipation of the blessed Mercurial event, I hung up my pity-party hat, undug my heels from the mud of resistance and allowed the missing mojo to seep back into my brain. Anxiety and turmoil are no longer the words of the day. The new word is commitment. Commitment to my new job and the flower-strewn path it will lead me down. Commitment to my ever-evolving spiritual journey and the inspiring people I'm beginning to bond with. Commitment to invoking romance and beauty whether or not I wake up alone.

To be committed to something~ a person, place or thing~ requires restriction and loss on some level. It requires giving up something that was previously deemed valuable. But without commitment, the fullness of life can never truly be tasted. The depths of a person, place or thing can never be experienced, savored and realized. Without commitment, one remains at the surface. Safe. Clean. Unscathed. And empty. Without commitment, talent remains shrouded. Health deteriorates. Love is squandered.

Commitment, when surrendered to, reveals newer, more meaningful values. Restriction and loss lead to previously unimagined freedom. Every commitment to a person, place or thing is, at its core, a commitment to the self. The self that is connected to God. The self that honors God. The self that is God.