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During a meditation this week—something I've become more consistent with again—discipline was the topic that arose. Much has been written about discipline, and the benefits of living a disciplined life. Three sources that come to mind are the Stoics, Ryan Holiday’s book Discipline is Destiny link, and Jocko Willink’s book Discipline Equals Freedom link. From a tactical and philosophical perspective, there isn't much I can add that hasn’t already been covered in these works.
However, from a lived experience, my perspective has shifted recently—from an academic understanding to an internalized knowing. Here’s how and why.
I’ve always considered myself to be fairly disciplined. I go to bed early, get up early, exercise regularly, keep my commitments, and so on. But over the last few years, I started to slip on some of my daily habits, like meditating, writing, and reading.
Good question. I was extremely busy. I was tired. My schedule was completely full—from morning to evening, between work (often multiple jobs), family, kid’s activities, and a litany of other responsibilities. My day was packed.
In my mind, this was enough and all I could manage. Plus, I wasn’t feeling the “benefits” of the mind and soul work that I used to. I also became resentful of the fact that I had to do these things to feel “normal” in the first place. So, I quit. The busyness of the day kept me distracted and occupied, but a general sense of irritability and malaise settled in.
“Fine, that’s just life at this stage, so just keep it moving,” I told myself.
Where things got interesting was during the time I took off this summer. For a very long time, I wanted a break from the never-ending schedule of stuff—the stress of running a business—and to spend a good block of quality time with my kids. I’m forever grateful that I managed to get that opportunity.
What was surprising, though, was what happened internally. Instead of peace, calm, and tranquility, my mind was all over the place. It wasn’t in a bad place; it was just everywhere, constantly looking for something to stress about, worry about, feel bad about, or whatever. It just would not stop bouncing around.
The best way I can describe it is to imagine you’re holding a very full balloon by the area where it would normally be tied off, but it isn’t tied off, and you let it go. The balloon isn’t dangerous and won’t harm itself or anyone else, but it will fly around the room, bouncing off the ceiling, the walls, other people—just being a general nuisance. That was my mind.
I believe it’s because I had a lack of discipline. The habits I had formed to help keep me centered and focused were gone, and with the vacuum created by not having my schedule packed all day with work and kid’s activities, there were no boundaries established for my mind.
Like a balloon emptying itself of all its air, my mind was free to run rampant, bouncing from thought to thought, feeling to feeling, without the guardrails and structures that had previously been in place from years of good daily habits. I wasn’t controlling my mind; my mind was controlling me.
Fortunately, I’ve been in a love-hate relationship with my mind since my youth, so this wasn’t new to me. I knew how to notice, observe, and course-correct to get to a better place. What was surprising was how quickly this all occurred once there was space to allow for it.
This is why my perspective on discipline has shifted. Busyness does not equal discipline. Having a packed schedule because of work and family obligations does not equal discipline. I had been confusing the two, and until the time that busyness had previously occupied was free, I could believe that I was disciplined. My mind had something else to say about that.
Where I’ve landed is that discipline is important because it builds a sidewalk for the mind to walk on—a path to be followed, a smoother surface to travel on—and allows for more semblance of control over what’s going on internally.
My view of discipline had evolved to seeing it as just another task—just adding to my already never-ending list of things I need to do. It has now evolved again to being a helpful tool that creates the internal space I need to focus on the things I deem most important, so I’m not distracted or occupied with all the nonsense my mind thinks I should be worried about.
It means getting up early, even when I don’t “need” to. It means meditating again six days a week. It means writing daily. And it means reading daily. That foundation clears the path so I can spend time focused on activities I’ve deemed to be most important for moving my life forward today.