I periodically meet individuals with a strong capacity for definitions. Betwixt poignant conversations on such subjects as the ethical ramifications of discovering a rock in one's rice pudding (to fling at the chef or to sue for dental damages?), I like to ask this question:
"What is discipline?"
The typical response is something along the lines of "having a plan and sticking to it" or "preferring future goals to present desires." Dictionary.com seems to agree, with definitions such as "training to act in accordance with rules" or "activity, exercise, or a regimen that develops or improves a skill."
Though commonly accepted, I find these definitions lack the immediacy that the word implies. The present moment is overshadowed in favor of a preferred future. Discipline even carries a distinctly negative tone, in the sense of doing something you'd rather not.
In order to reclaim discipline from the unsavory slag heap of "obligation," I thus propose a revised definition:
Discipline (noun): doing what needs to be done
The beauty of this version is that there are no plans involved; there doesn't even need to be a discernible future. There are only two things involved: 1) knowing what needs to be done and 2) doing it.
Objection! How are we to know what needs to be done? Are there not complex economic equations to be balanced against esoteric ethical doctrines and cross-referenced with the opinion of my guru/priest/dear Aunt Sally?
Rebuttal! Stop overthinking it. Dealing with the mounting trash heap that long ago devoured your measly garbage can is not a complex issue. I'm sure the fruit flies are great company, but everyone with a nose will thank you for doing the deed. You know it needs to be done, and the only thing holding you back is infinitely available reruns of Modern Family. Quit procrasturbating and slap on some rubber gloves.
The key lies in owning the impulse, because if it isn't there then no appeal to "rules" or "skill development" or "the impending collapse of civilization" will make a whit of difference. Discipline is not plans or skills or zombie preparedness, but the act of fulfilling those goals. Discipline is not practicing piano every day for three hours; discipline is embracing your piano-based desires and then playing piano for three hours each day instead of flicking bottle caps at the cat.
The heart of discipline is trusting the impulse that says, "Do it now!" This is what gets you off your ass and onto your back to work on those washboard abs, or off the computer and into bed at a reasonable hour, or away from the TV to mop the remnants of last night's dinner off the ceiling. There doesn't need to be some grand scheme or mighty payoff. Discipline is its own reward.
"What is discipline?"
The typical response is something along the lines of "having a plan and sticking to it" or "preferring future goals to present desires." Dictionary.com seems to agree, with definitions such as "training to act in accordance with rules" or "activity, exercise, or a regimen that develops or improves a skill."
Though commonly accepted, I find these definitions lack the immediacy that the word implies. The present moment is overshadowed in favor of a preferred future. Discipline even carries a distinctly negative tone, in the sense of doing something you'd rather not.
In order to reclaim discipline from the unsavory slag heap of "obligation," I thus propose a revised definition:
Discipline (noun): doing what needs to be done
The beauty of this version is that there are no plans involved; there doesn't even need to be a discernible future. There are only two things involved: 1) knowing what needs to be done and 2) doing it.
Objection! How are we to know what needs to be done? Are there not complex economic equations to be balanced against esoteric ethical doctrines and cross-referenced with the opinion of my guru/priest/dear Aunt Sally?
Rebuttal! Stop overthinking it. Dealing with the mounting trash heap that long ago devoured your measly garbage can is not a complex issue. I'm sure the fruit flies are great company, but everyone with a nose will thank you for doing the deed. You know it needs to be done, and the only thing holding you back is infinitely available reruns of Modern Family. Quit procrasturbating and slap on some rubber gloves.
The key lies in owning the impulse, because if it isn't there then no appeal to "rules" or "skill development" or "the impending collapse of civilization" will make a whit of difference. Discipline is not plans or skills or zombie preparedness, but the act of fulfilling those goals. Discipline is not practicing piano every day for three hours; discipline is embracing your piano-based desires and then playing piano for three hours each day instead of flicking bottle caps at the cat.
The heart of discipline is trusting the impulse that says, "Do it now!" This is what gets you off your ass and onto your back to work on those washboard abs, or off the computer and into bed at a reasonable hour, or away from the TV to mop the remnants of last night's dinner off the ceiling. There doesn't need to be some grand scheme or mighty payoff. Discipline is its own reward.
RSS Feed