I’ll confess — I find it cringey when I see pictures of people making a full-blown spectacle of renewing their marriage vows. I’m skeptical about the whole dog-and-pony show, the matching outfits, and the elaborate settings. If it’s just about recommitting to each other, why not do it in private? Why the hoopla?
The more of these pictures I see, the more the cynic in me wonders: Are these people desperately clinging to their rosy youth and refusing to admit they are grown-ups? Or do they simply need another excuse to get tipsy and rack up more presents? Or perhaps it’s a way to milk the moment and bask in the limelight, because, let’s face it, social media relevance seems to be the greatest currency of our time.
But here’s the thing: recommitment matters. Not just in marriage, but in all aspects of life.
Sooner or later, we’re going to stumble, stutter, coast, or worse, fall off the wagon. And we need to find ways to get up and move on.
Readers of this blog (thank you) are well aware of my borderline-obsessive love for early mornings. I’ve rarely missed opportunities to preach, cajole, expound, convince, or sing the glories of just how transformative it can be to get more done by 9 a.m. than most people manage in a day.
In the process, I may have driven away some people (cultish behavior is universally abhorred), but I’m too smitten with the concept of Brahma Muhurta to notice.
But here’s the thing: life has a way of knocking us back to our humbler selves so our heads don’t get too big.
A few months ago, I got out of the habit of waking up early, thanks to a series of commitments that required me to stay up late into the night. Even after those obligations were met, getting back to rising before the sun felt impossible.
Then I had a sliver of opportunity, thanks to jet lag. I had a choice: I could use this break to reset my sleep schedule and get back to waking up early, or do nothing and see where the chips fell.
I chose to recommit to early mornings. It seems to be working. Although I’ll say it’s taken a fair amount of effort. It’s hard to be a morning person when you live with a teenager who seems almost afraid of sunlight and has a sleep schedule that mimics a vampire’s.
Recommitment is almost as important as the original commitment.
We’ll forget birthdays, find excuses to dodge exercise, use the new-fangled juice machine exactly twice, and then ignore its existence. The poor main character in the wonderful novel we’re writing has opened the door, but is still waiting—two months in—because we haven’t written the next scene.
It happens. It’s called being human. We commit to a shiny object, try it for a bit, and when the sheen starts to fade, we let go, fascinated by other shiny things. Or sometimes, we have the best intentions, but life gets in the way.
I’m fairly confident that no one in the history of humanity has ever been on a wagon and cruised at a steady pace or in a straight line from start to finish. But despite detours and rest stops, they somehow find ways to get back into the wagon and continue on their life’s mission.
It’s tempting to say “good for them” and go back to scrolling, but maybe we can glean a thing or two from how they make recommitment work? Here are some easy-to-implement, obvious ideas:
Don’t wait for a marked occasion to recommit
For most of us, it’s tempting to wait for a “special” date to start fresh — the first of the month, the first of the year, our birthdays. And our excuse is, “Oh darn, it’s the 3rd already, and I haven’t started on my knitting project. Guess I’ll just sit here scrolling Instagram for another 27 days until the next month starts.”
We can recommit on a Tuesday at 2:37 p.m. in the middle of a laundry cycle.
Listen to your inner Annoying Aunt
Whenever I go for a walk or a run, I hear her—my “annoying aunt.” She’s the voice that reminds me of something I said I’d do but haven’t. Maybe it’s wishing someone happy birthday (but now it’s two months late and I’m embarrassed). Perhaps it’s a task I promised myself I’d get to, but keep dodging because it’s boring or uncomfortable.
She’s relentless. Every five steps, she’s in my ear, like an airport announcer with a megaphone: “Are you going to call?” Yes, I often tune her out with music.
But she’s right. Recommitment is really just finding the courage to say, “Sorry, I messed up, but here I am.” Whether the other person accepts it or still holds a grudge is their business. Don’t worry. They have an annoying aunt to worry about, too.
It’s never about perfection
It’s okay to step off, fall off, or wander away from the wagon. The point isn’t perfection; it’s returning. Even during the day, when I feel like I’ve wasted it all away, I now try to do one small thing I’ll be happy to check off before going to bed.
Not everything deserves recommiting
Over the years, I’ve signed up for countless life plans and “wonderful” activities. Some I outgrew. Others I dropped without regret. And a few I kept doing, even though I hated them, just because I thought they were expected of me.
I’m learning to let those go because I have finally realized that recommitment isn’t about chaining yourself to every past promise. It’s about choosing again, and sometimes, choosing differently.
Let’s find ways to start over. As often as we need to. Because what else is there to do, really?