Commitment

"A Teen Trying to Figure it Out" was going to be the topic and name of my YouTube channel. This idea wasn't an idea I had been pondering for very long rather, my inclination for the concept came to me one late night when I was fifteen. It would be the chronicled adventures of my time in high school, learning all the ends and out of the social hierarchy and the academic rigor of my school. Since the videos would center around events that happened to me, the ideas for videos would come naturally and, in theory, won't require much work. I spent hours imagining how this could significantly change my life and help me become famous, and the best part was it would be easy.

The idea sounded great in my head. So, I thought to myself, "Why wait?" I made a new Gmail and youtube channel with the exact name. Exhausted from planning and making my channel, I decided to go to bed with the intention of creating my first viral video the very next day. However, when I awoke the next morning, I realized this idea sounded cringy, and I lost all steam with the concept. Furthermore, I didn't know the basics of making a quality youtube video, nor did I have any speaking skills necessary to strain well-thought-inspiring messages to others.

Looking back now, I am glad that fear and laziness restrained me from going further down this rabbit hole. It makes me cringe, to this day, just thinking about my 15-year-old self believing that I had experienced enough life to give proper advice on growing up.

Some might find it ironic that my first blog post would include a story of me getting cold feet on a new project. And to their benefit, they would have a point. However, what this story tells, and something I hope to expand upon, is the idea that commitment to a new experience is a difficult skill to acquire and takes dedication to see it through. We all have talents, jobs, and relationships with a shallow commitment threshold. Whether we are naturally gifted in a skill, or job, or have many similar interests to someone, we tend to rely heavily on these low-commitment and low-energy parts of our lives because they are safe risks with decent rewards. In these moments, we don't have to sweat, actively engage, or critically think; instead, we go with the motion.

Now think of a time when you didn't know the outcome, where your stomach might have dropped, or your heart started to race. These are moments when we feel the most alive, where we must take on unclear commitments with full throttle in the hopes of reaping immense rewards.

One of my favorite movies is The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. Walter Mitty, played by Ben Stiller, has a mediocre life in this movie. He has a job he likes, a friend who works with him at LIFE magazine, and predictable low-stress life. I can't help but squirm at this part of the movie. I become agitated because this movie does such a great job of showing how easy it is to fall into repetition. Where the days blend together, which are only broken up by the dozen or so days that we all have collectively decided are better than others. Life becomes mundane, and we aren't even aware of the ground we walk on.

However, this movie does have a bright side. Walter breaks past his daily repetition by seeking discomfort. He flies to Iceland, jumps onto a hovering helicopter, jumps off the same helicopter into shark-infested water, downhill skateboards, climbs a mountain, and, most importantly, asks the woman he admires on a date.  

Walter's choices are difficult to make and often look very intimidating compared to our safe everyday routine. Living life on the sideline still lets you win the super bowl, but how fulfilling is this? Wouldn't you rather give some effort and feel fulfilled, knowing with confidence that your actions had a direct impact on your life?

I can't act like I know the correct answer with confidence; I am still a novice in the game of life, and my intuition for how to play is only a tiny snippet of others. However, I can say that I would not be putting hours into writing a post, especially with writing not being my strong suit, if I didn't think the effort was worth the reward.

Every time I sign into Youtube, I'm reminded of my channel that could've been. I enjoy seeing the account because, for a moment, I imagine how different my life could have been if I had taken the initial leap. I am comforted by this way of thinking because when faced with a difficult choice, I will weigh all my options and pick what's best, not based solely on safety but on the kind of life  I want to live.