What Commitment Are You Making to Yourself?

100 sand

I have a distinct memory of a decision I made on my fourth birthday.

I figured that since I was four it was about darn time I jumped off the high diving board at the community college pool where my dad taught swimming lessons in the summer. The earliest photo I have of being in that pool was dated when I was nine months old, so I was no stranger to the water. I don’t remember the climb up the 15-foot ladder, but I do remember plunging with glee like a little bullet into the pool.

That leap was a change. That leap was a commitment. That leap was a risk.

So what change, commitment, or leap can I take now that I’ve turned forty?
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The Best Birthday

Happy-Birthday-Cupcake

“Turn. Face Melanie,” my instructor said at the end of class. It was a Friday night and we had practiced my favorite techniques: hand strikes, forms, and breaking. What was coming next? Wait a minute, we’d already done the standard bow-to-the-black-belts part of our closing ritual: master, second degrees, first degrees. What’s going on? Is there something spe—oooohhh, right.

“Start singing,” he added, giving me a smirk as he strolled to the front of the room. The whole class sang “Happy Birthday” to me. I grinned and covered my face.
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When You Know You’ve Found Your Tribe

chairs

I am not, by nature, a loyal person.

Connecting with other people has always been difficult for me. Although I come from a close-knit family and have been a serial monogamist in romantic relationships, when it comes to groups of friends or associates I tend to shy away. I truly enjoy interacting with people, especially those with whom I share similar interests, but I have a little problem with commitment. When things start to move too fast, and it starts getting too close, I bail. Once the fun wears off and things get serious, I don’t want to stick around. To be honest, I’m a bit of a player. I like the flirtatious rush at the beginning, but I don’t want to deal with the long-term time and energy investment.
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Kicks, Camaraderie, and Cake

dobok cake
This cake is insanely beautiful. I must wear it and I must eat it…not sure which one I’ll do first. Maybe both at the same time.

The best laid plans for playing hooky are often waylaid by the promise of cake. For the last two days I have been EXHAUSTED. It’s not from Monday night’s TKD class or my Tuesday morning swim. It’s not from work. It’s from the little gray blob between my ears.
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