Writing twice each week online is a commitment. A small one.
I could write more often. I decided, instead, to take small bites when it comes to commitments; that's the patient but direct route to getting somewhere. Just ask the tortoise.
What happens, though, when life throws curves: a parent who's ailing 1,800 miles away, a marriage suddenly divided into two households, a freelance business in need of a rebrand?
What happens when the going gets tough is, sometimes, excuses. Excuses are an opiate, the quick fix, the band-aid that's obviously too small for the job; reasons they are not. Excuses leave loose ends, never quite owning up to the fact that, some days, the curve simply sails right by.
Abraham Lincoln said: "I am not bound to win, but I am bound to be true. I am not bound to succeed, but I am bound to live up to what light I might have."
Cutting back on excuses -- like cigarettes or fried foods -- is a direct, albeit challenging, route to walking a little straighter, sleeping a little easier, and becoming a little healthier human.