9. WHAT EXACTLY IS MY OBLIGATION HERE? - Who Enforces A Promise We Make To Ourself?
When I decided to start this blog experiment - eleven posts in eleven weeks - I knew it would be hard. Throughout my life I have started a variety of blogs which have all begun with a flurry of activity only to eventually fizzle out as life got in the way of commentating on life. That was kind of the point. For this to work, I needed to ensure at least one new post a week…and if contributions don’t come in from students and teachers, then it will have to be me who writes them at first. If I couldn’t produce my arbitrary eleven in the flabby summer weeks, with less classes to teach thanks to exam classes leaving and less planning and marking to get in the way, then there was no way I would be able to keep this up in the full thrum of the autumn term. And so far, week after week, I have kept my promise to myself.
This is not the only promise I am currently in the process of keeping to myself.
Two years ago I made a promise to myself to get healthier. I swore I would do at least ten minutes on our cross-trainer every other day. Since that promise was made, it has not only been kept, but exceeded, with the addition of a rowing machine and weights to fill the days in between.
Mental health, too, needs to be nurtured, and so for the last sixty-five days, after about six months of neglect, I have returned to daily mindful meditation for at least five minutes.
Likewise, it having been a while since I read the Bible cover to cover, in June I purchased a “Bible in One Year” journal and have been diligently studying a section of both Old and New Testaments each day.
I also, as another writing exercise, have been keeping a handwritten personal journal in which I write an entry every day and have done for the last year and a half.
So each day I do some form of exercise, read some bible, write a journal, and meditate, simply because I have promised myself that I would. And every week since April I have taken the time to write this blog.
What interests me about these things is that they really feel like a genuine obligation. If I fail to do any one of them, I feel I have committed some sort of wrong or let somebody down. When I go away these days, I try to ensure the hotel has gym facilities so I can do my ten minutes. I download meditation sessions on my phone and have sat on planes and in foreign coffee shops focusing on my breath in my chest and the voice of Andy from Headspace in my ears. When I went away this weekend and had no room to pack my heavy bible, I took the time a few days before to pre-read three days’ worth in advance so I wouldn’t fall behind. I also make sure that if I can’t pack my weighty journal when I’m away from home, I keep notes on my phone or iPad for transfer upon my return.
The crucial thing here is that if I did not do any one of these things, nothing at all would happen. I am not doing them because I believe God told me to and the punishment for failure is hell. I am not doing it because I signed a legally binding contract and would be in breach if certain things aren’t done. There is no law compelling me and not even another human being to whom I have made my oath.
Promises to others are just as flimsy, but at least there is a genuine consequence if we fail to uphold them: harm, or at the very least, frustration or disappointment to the other person. To myself, however, I cannot be particularly hurt, frustrated or disappointed by not keeping my promises, as I would only be breaking them, conceivably, because something came along to take up my time which I found more important. By my choosing to do B instead of A, I have made a clear decision that my preference is B rather than A, so missing out on A is no great tragedy. In fact, many times I have found myself more hurt, frustrated, or disappointed that I have to keep my promises to myself than I have in breaking them. That need to go to bed before the realisation hits that I have yet to do my meditation, or have not yet written in my journal, and sleep has to be delayed so I can carry out my pointless duty.
Last week’s blog, for instance, was written on a train to London. When I booked the ticket, I had not envisioned myself working on that journey, but instead spending a luxurious hour and a half reading a book. The book stayed in my bag until the writing was done because if Sunday came and went and the blog had not been written, I would have let myself down even if every ounce of my being would have much rather read the book.
And this entry now is being written out of pure obligation. Nothing of particular philosophical interest has occurred this week and yet the week has come to its end and a post must be completed. I began to rationalise with myself that I ought to just let it slide for one week. It is, after all, my wedding anniversary and I am going away for the weekend, and the week at work is particularly busy with our annual Festival of Cultures at which I am running an all-day workshop on comedic improvisation. Who cares if this post isn’t done? The blog isn’t even live yet.
And the startling answer was that I would care. For some inexplicable reason, I would be let down by not keeping this promise to myself. I - the one and only person who knows how much I would love to not be doing this right now; I - who am resenting myself for currently forcing myself to do this instead of catch up with what happened today at Wimbledon or watch a film.
And all I can offer is this:
All promises are based on the fiction that a genuine bond has been created by our words and this fiction becomes real only because we, the promise-makers and promise-receivers, buy into that fiction and make such imaginary bonds real through agreement that we will each act as though they are.
As all promises are merely agreed fantasies, made real through sheer force of will, there is nothing to prevent a single person becoming both promise-maker and promise-receiver and agreeing to a promise fantasy entirely by themselves.
It is this same commitment to agreed fantasy which allows us to keep promises to those who have died (wills) and those who are far away from us and would not know if we had broken our promise (fidelity).
Therefore a promise made to myself is just as much an obligation as one made to another person, living or dead, near or far: the obligation in all cases comes only from my own decision to honour the promise and agree to the fantasy.
Hence, I have written this latest blog post despite not wanting to, and will now go and read the bible, write my journal and meditate, instead of finishing the book I currently have on the go. Because a promise is a promise, even to yourself.
AUTHOR: D.McKee