I’ve been contemplating discipline lately. Usually after I order pizza instead of eating something healthier that I already have in the fridge. Or when, instead of getting up early and working out, I chose to lay in bed and read my Facebook feed. Or when it’s the night before a massive presentation at work and I’m cramming to complete it. Or when the grass is nearing 6 inches high and pushing the mower is significantly more difficult than it needs to be. Or when money’s tight – which I discover on one of my 7 internet connected devices.
I’m not a disciplined person. The posting schedule at blog of manly confirms it.
I think I want to be disciplined. But I must want something else more, because I’m not there.
I also think a lot about freedom. Or, more accurately, how great it would be to be free. Free from government interference. Free from debt. Free from being overweight and all that that entails. Etc.
I’m 100% aware that there’s a direct correlation between:
“I’m not a disciplined person” and “I think a lot about how great it would be to be free.”
What I can’t figure out is: why don’t I want freedom more than instant gratification?
I see videos like this and just wonder what it is about this dude that’s different in me:
As I think it through, there are a few other thoughts related to this – some more closely than others:
- My desire for freedom is good. The flip side of the desire for freedom is the rejection of accountability. I got that in spades too. Don’t tell me what to do. Makes it hard to humble myself and be challenged when I’m acting in opposition to my own best interests.
- I don’t believe as many people are as addicted to as many things as we’re asked to believe. Often it’s just creating an excuse for bad behavior. When it comes to sugar, however, I’m starting to believe it ranks only slightly behind heroin in terms of difficulty to quit. Note: I have no experience with heroin, but I did watch every episode The Wire.
- I hold this belief that “We do what we want to do.” Applied, it would mean that I prefer the behaviors that lead me to wish I behaved differently. I desire my own harm more than my own good.
- This was easier when I was beating up on you guys. Being introspective is harder.
There’s a lot to this. And I’m not going to make any bold, poorly thought out commitments. When I’m ready to commit to something specific, I’ll make sure you know so you can ask me about it. I’ll work on the whole accountability thing too.
I don’t know… am I alone in this?
No, bro, you’re not alone. I’m right there with you. I look at my life and my body and my business and think, “I can do so much more. I can do better. I’m capable of more than this.” I know the missing link in all of it is my own lack of discipline. It’s weird because I can hear the greatness of who I can be calling…screaming….at me to become disciplined in order to get there. But I’m so much closer to the lazy side of my life and that little bitch only has to whisper at me and it’s usually louder than the screams of greatness. It’s a difficult place to be in. I do believe that if I keep listening to the calls of greatness, I will eventually respond and break the chains of my own apathy. Thanks for shining light in dark areas, bro.
Nope, you are most definitely not alone – 2 of 2 respondents polled agree.
I used to run. I was fanatical about it for awhile. I ran in the rain and snow (obviously this was pre-San Diego days), I ran with blisters. I was insistent about running because if you miss a week it takes you two weeks to get back to where you were. Miss two weeks and you’re a month behind. Better not to miss, so the rest of my life became secondary to running. I didn’t really choose to give it up. I started to travel a lot for work and it became inconvenient to do it. I loved the sense of accomplishment, and I know I was physically better off, but I hated feeling enslaved to it. I had the same kind of love/hate encounter with weight lifting at a gym. Wash, rinse, repeat.
You mentioned that you’re carrying some extra weight. Yeah, I really enjoy food – how a medium-well Costco ribeye just melts in my mouth, the cinnamon roll French toast at a local diner, slathered with glaze and dripping butter and maple syrup (and of course I get the special w/ 2 eggs and sausage patties – gotta be sure to get some protein in there). And the list goes on and on and on…as did the pounds. I was 175ish at 30 when I got married in ‘85. Not too long ago I was in the low 250s. My wife, my mother, several good friends made efforts at getting me to address it. I even got scolded by a cardiologist (not a very cheery fellow. I’m pretty sure when he really cuts loose and throws caution to the wind he takes three or four wiffs of chocolate chip cookies – not bites of the things themselves…just the aroma).
Well, this week I saw the scale dip below 230, and I’m going to watch it keep going down. What has changed? I’ve stopped caring about food so much. I eat most of the time when I should. I used to eat like my dog eats – like I wasn’t sure where my next meal was coming from. I still don’t like people telling me what to do, and I rebel against shaming. But I think in the end it comes down to changing what I believe about myself, who I am and why I’m here. So I think I’m finally learning self control with a healthier perspective. I’m finding the message “I can eat that if I want, but I don’t want to because I don’t want to re-take that hill again” instead of “I can’t eat that, can’t eat that…ooo but I want it so much” like at the end of Chocolat.
“[To list the areas in which I settle, and fail, and lack discipline, and compromise, and…]
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.”
Hopefully that isn’t blasphemy.
Thanks for the post. While we are constantly tempted to think we’re alone in these battles, the truth is we’re surrounded by millions of other men struggling up the same hill. We need to open our eyes, look around, and realize we should be fighting together, as a band of brothers. But, as you mentioned, it takes humility and trust to submit to accountability.