Is the following essay a coherent expression of an interesting concept, or just a pep talk to myself? I'm not sure.

I mentioned earlier that I'm discovering (rediscovering?) the power of commitments. While we might generally agree that it's a good thing to keep your commitments to other people -- you know, show up on time, do what you say you're going to do, etc., etc -- there is also a concept that I was introduced to a couple of weekends ago that goes a little deeper. That by establishing that your word is good, you give new power to your word. Your word becomes a tool to create. Since I'm working on my writing and speaking careers, this concept carries a few interesting entendres.

The concept as explained to me -- or rather, as I interpreted it -- goes like this: when I give you my word that I'm going to do something and I fail to follow through, I injure us both... even if only slightly. You are likely to feel let down, even if only a little, by my failing to follow through. I'm late to our appointment, for example. Not the end of the world, certainly, but you're a little put out. Bothered. It doesn't enhance your day, and can only serve to detract from it. Likewise, I feel a little bothered. Disappointed in myself. Rushed or frustrated. It doesn't matter *why* I didn't meet my commitment. The reason may be just as trivial or large as the promise itself. Either way, though, I've made a negative impact on our respective situations.

Likewise, if I fulfill a commitment I've made to you, both of us benefit. Again, you may not end up jumping for joy because I managed merely to meet you at the agreed upon time or followed through on some small favor, but by doing what I'd said I would, you at least feel good that I followed through and we can move forward from this point. I, likewise, feel reliable. I've invested some worth into my word.

Now, I realize this may sound like a load of New Age, touchy-feely nonsense. I've long subscribed to the concept that keeping a contract (however you choose to word it) is of the utmost importance -- whether from the Objectivist Epistemological arguments of Ayn Rand, or simply from the aphorisms my grandfather used to recite to me over and over again ("If the appointment is worth making, it's worth keeping," et al). When you get right down to it, this is the Randian contract as seen from a psychological viewpoint instead of a moral or social context.

But let's take it one step further. When you make a promise to yourself, you are doubling the stakes. When you break a promise to yourself, you are injured both as the promissor who failed to follow through and as the promissee who was failed. Likewise, when you keep your commitment to yourself, you benefit both as the promissor who followed through and as the promissee who was valued.

Now, none of us can keep every single promise we make. For many of us, most of the transgressions tend to be small. "Sorry I was ten minutes late, but traffic was awful." This may be because most of our commitments are actually small in nature. Ultimately, the damage or the benefits of breaking or keeping your word accumulate over time.

If you tend to make your word good, if you make a point of honoring your commitments, then when you give your word, you are more likely to be moved to make it happen. If you keep your promises to yourself and others, you are more likely to keep more of your promises. In other words, you develop a cycle of reinforcement.

(It's fun to note that in the ancient tradition of the Judeo-Christian model, God and the Word were one and the same. Here we have a being whose Word *is* Good, and therefore when the Word is issued, what is said simply... is. "Let there be light!" Lo and behold, there is light.)

So why do I bother mentioning all this mamby pamby mush? Because it provides me with a lever with which I can begin to move myself in the direction I want to go. Because by rededicating my word, I am making more distinctions, better decisions, and stronger commitments. I'm making fewer promises, now, but I'm making those commitments stick. As my word gets better, not only to others but also to myself, I'm finding it less effort to move forward.

A few entries ago, I mentioned that I'd followed through on a commitment to begin writing a new short story and to send out another story for consideration by a publisher. I then made a new commitment: to finish the story I'd started and to have it out by this past Friday. I have to admit, I wasn't feeling terribly moved by this commitment. It was a half-hearted promise to myself, at best.

But I decided that if my word is to have any weight, I have to do what I can to follow through with my declarations. I didn't even decide this with a great deal of deliberate thought. If I had, I think there would have been more of a "chore" aspect to following through. Instead, I simply... did it. Recent habits helped carry me forward. I began Friday with about 1,300 words or so written. By 11pm, I'd written a total of 3,600 words, trimmed 200 back out, and sent it off to my critique group. I'm now intent upon sending it out for consideration by June 15th.

As I develop the habit of keeping these small commitments, I expect to be able to follow through on the larger ones. Like becoming a published novelist. Like becoming a great father to my child/children. Like building a life that matters.

This may all be mumbo jumbo, or it may be the most profound concept ever devised. I'm inclined to think that it falls somewhere between the two extremes. I can, in fact, think of several counterexamples of people whose word was worthless but who nonetheless managed to do big things. However, I do know that renewing this concept of commitment is helping me right now to go where I want to go more effectively than I'd been managing before. So, whether it's legit medicine or just a placebo, I think I'll see how far this concept takes me.

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Side note: is this what those "Promise Keeper" groups are all about? Is there some kool-aid I should be drinking? I wonder, but I'm not sure if I really want to know. :-)