I've heard this on many occasions,
“You’re the most disciplined person I know.”
I’m not boasting. I’m immediately struck with imposter syndrome slating this for a blog topic.
It’s an odd lens for self-examination. Objectively, I know that I am very disciplined. It doesn’t feel like discipline though. If I were more disciplined, I might workout less or spend more time with family or answer phone calls and respond to messages better. People always want to talk about “discipline”, and I haven’t quite figured out exactly what that is.
When I was a teenager, school progress reports started to show that I was acting up in class. I was diagnosed with and medicated for ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). Attention requires discipline, so I must not have had any. Ironically though, I could pay attention in earth sciences just fine, and when it came to playing Runescape, I could direct my attention for hours on end.
It’s a shame that none of that was taken into consideration during the diagnosis. Essentially, the view of the medical professionals, at that time, was something akin to shaving the corners off the square peg so that it would fit in the round hole. Socialization in the school system was and still is, in many ways, a one-size fits all approach by obvious necessity.
Retrospectively, I have come to see how my lack of interest was mistaken as a lack of attention span and, unfortunately, would become a fairly common mistake made with teenagers in my generation and the generation to follow. Optimistically though, I think that’s slowly changing with time.
The ADD medication was the first of many unhealthy coping mechanisms I would adopt in order to facilitate my functioning in the school system. The way I see it now, I was never meant to sit indoors at a desk for long hours surrounded by other people. That was a painstaking existence for me unless "properly" medicated. I did fine in school by all objective metrics, including success on sports teams, but there was some piece missing.
It wasn’t until after college that I was able to pause and to see my life in a way that allowed me to make healthy lifestyle adjustments. I started spending a lot more time outside. I found a few hobbies, all of which involved physical exertion. I used the rugged independence of early adulthood to spend a lot more time alone enjoying myself and my new-found hobbies.
I had spent my life until that point not knowing myself very well at all. I had thought I was outgoing, extroverted, someone who enjoyed the company of others. At least, that’s the person I thought I was supposed to be. I do believe I can be those things still, but it's a role that I play in much smaller doses than I prescribed for myself in my earlier years.
As I got to know myself, I found out that I was really quite introverted, that I placed a high value on alone time, and that I had this insatiable urge for self-improvement. It wasn’t much different than my urge to excel at Runescape when I was thirteen. Now, it was just guided differently.
I never started out very good at any one hobby, but I enjoyed working hard to improve. My whimsical urges were now directed towards something healthy and something that was celebrated socially. Only then was it seen by others to be an act of self-discipline, as opposed to self-indulgence. To me, it still felt like self-indulgence. I can’t be sure that there’s a difference between the two, other than the outcome.
Is the outcome healthy or unhealthy?
That seems to be the division between discipline and selfishness as far as I can tell.
It goes to say, then, that the merit of any drive for self-improvement still needs to be honestly examined by its outcome in a manner that looks at a well-rounded scope of implications. Maybe when it begins to negatively impact others is the point at which it crosses over from discpline into selfishness? Then again, great men have often accomplished great things in opposition to popular opinion and against all odds. So I guess like all things, somewhere in the middle will have to do...
Regardless, how can you inspire someone to embrace more discipline in their own life? That’s the question. As far as I can tell, lasting behavior change has to be driven, first and foremost, by interest. There has to be a spark of interest at the very least. With interest and just a little effort can come progress.
Progress is addictive. That’s a platitude that app developers and video game designers are using against you constantly. It starts with a spark and a little guidance. The human drive for progress can take it from there, but the spark is something that can’t be manufactured.
You’ve got to find a goal that’s truly appealing, and even most goals are predicated on an existing interest. You’ve got to find a healthy interest, it has to be genuinely appealing to you, and you need to be able to set goals within that interest that are attainable. Lastly, odds are that you won’t be good at something immediately, so you’ll also have to endure humility and undergo periods of painful development. You can’t be afraid to look stupid. Continued growth will stem out of continued uncomfortability.
If you nail all of that, progress should come to you in just about anything. Once progress is at a level where it can be measured and observed, consistency is key. Progress can be a strong driving force, but you cannot progress without consistency.
That’s where discipline comes in.
Sufficient interest gets you started toward positive changes and discipline keeps you in the game.
Interest + Discipline = Passion
In my opinion, passion towards a positive lifestyle is the best thing we can hope for.
Fitness is a passion for me - hardly a disciplined act the way I see it. There are times when strict adherence to schedule and regimen require discipline, times when I do things I really don’t want to, simply because I told myself I would. But it doesn’t stop with running miles or breaking down muscle tissue in the gym.
This is a philosophy that has changed everything in my life. It has changed the way I work, the way I exist in a family and friend group, and I hope it changes the kind of parent I can be. I know I’ve got my work cut out for me (I’m aware of several areas I can improve presently). And with certainty, the hardest work is yet to come.
