committment -- I can't even spell the word right ;)

I am most interested in commitment to the moment. That is my philosophy; nothing more. I've found that commitment is often a crutch that people use to give form to their deficient content. Imagine a ball of clay. Maybe it is shaped like a wobbly golf ball. "We" want this to be our relationship--hypothetically--and so we call it a circle! Because relationships are like big circles. And so then we look at the glass of water that we have before us and notice the form of a circle. That glass, emptied upon the clay, becomes the commitment. It comes down out of the sky like a cage and slices into the clay on one side and misses on the other. So now the perfectly wobbly ball of clay is like a crescent of clay outside the glass and a ball of clay wedged up along one side of the glass, inside, and then there is that open space over there by the other edge, on the inside. So what has been achieved, you ask? Well, some of the content doesn't fir within the form. So it is thrown away. And some of the form is empty of content, so it is a void, pulling upon what is. And nothing has been achieved except to give the content a misfitting shape. So much better to just let the content be the form and love it for what it is. Does that make sense? If something is not a part of the mass of clay. . . well, then it's really not a part of the mass of clay. And if it is a part of it, then it is. And maybe the clay organically grows and maybe there is a proverbial sculpture hidden within the mass. Isn't that so much better than standing within the containment, peering out at what has been lost and remarking at the ghastly empty void? These things work themselves out best, I think, when they are allowed to grow organically.