We hear a lot about the concept of discipline which is defined here by Merriam-Webster as obtaining order, training, and exercising self control. Generally, when we hear the word, we link it to something like being productive and focused. What do you think of when you hear the word discipline? Does it make you cringe? Do you feel at home? Is discipline something others are good at, but you aren’t? Or are you rigidly in control, flexing discipline muscles at will, perhaps at the expense of all else?
If you are like most of us, you are somewhere in the middle. We can identify parts of our lives where we exhibit extreme discipline, and also where we find ourselves without self-control. We generally agree that discipline is a “good” thing, but we don’t know much about cultivating it.
I recently heard a conversation where a lofty goal was being discussed. The gentleman setting the goal asked his mentor: “How much discipline will this take?” And his question was answered with another question: “That depends, how happy do you want to be?”
Often we see “discipline” as a mental muscle that is underutilized. Depending on how often we work that muscle out, it may be weak, strong, or somewhere in between. If we don’t flex it often, we may think discipline is for “others” and we are just not “good at it.” We may be intimidated by taking on a new project or workout routine, for fear that we won’t have the discipline required to follow through.
But I would offer that we can cultivate discipline in the tiniest of actions. With one micro decision (‘I will get up when my alarm rings’) after another (‘I will make my bed’) and another (‘I will put my workout clothes on and go for a walk before the day starts’) we begin to string together behaviors that amount to an aggregate culmination of active discipline.
We know we are engaged in discipline when our curiosity shifts, from “What if I can’t do this?” to “What if I can do this?” By making small decisions and sticking to them, we create our own structure resulting in a life we seek. In doing so, we build confidence (which comes from the Latin root “confidere” meaning something like ‘full trust’.)
When we make small decisions, and stick to them, we begin to see ourselves as dependable, trustworthy, and solid. This underlying energetic current, and unspoken sense of whether or not we are “disciplined” can influence our choices tremendously. Each time we respond to a situation in way we are proud of, we can feel the rewards of discipline and confidence. Through these micro-decisions we define ourselves again and again, by doing what we say we will do.
Returning to the statement connecting discipline to happiness, let’s also bring grief into the conversation. How do we cultivate “discipline” around the grief process? How do we consistently make micro-decisions that can help us along the path of healing?
There are endless answers to this question. But let’s focus on this one: If we want to enjoy full lives, in the face of extreme grief, loss or tragedy, we have to commit ourselves to the smallest of decisions, to honor our grief and allow it to exist. That may not “sound” like discipline as we have historically thought about it. But it does take discipline (not to mention courage!) to sit with our pain, allow it to breathe, and not self medicate beyond our ability to feel it.
This may not seem like great news if you are hurting. But ironically, owning small decisions after a loss can actually help us build our discipline practice and restore a sense of control. As I often say: “ When I don’t handle my grief, my grief handles me.” What I mean, is that I have to make repeated choices about what role my aching heart, and memories of my deceased children and other lost loved ones will play in my daily life.
For example: When someone asks me if I have kids, what will I say? When I am invited to an event that could pull on my heart strings (like a baby shower or a funeral) do I flex my discipline muscle and say “No thanks,” or do I betray myself and fail to exercise the self control it takes to radically support and honor my grief at all costs? This is where discipline truly matters in our grieving process.
I recently heard Jack Kornfield say “We can’t begin healing until we tell our stories truthfully.” This statement literally brought tears to my eyes as I pondered its meaning and allowed it to wash over me. It resonated deeply, because as I have often shared, I compartmentalized my grief and locked it away for decades, not allowing it to exist, waiting for it to blow over, and not telling the truth of who I am. I share in my podcast “The Healing Path” that by expressing my truth I feel less like a robot. Each time I answer a question with honesty I am flexing that discipline muscle and feeling more like myself.
So when it comes to discipline and grief, don’t imagine you don’t have those muscles or that you can’t strengthen them. Every time you answer a question authentically, even if the answer might “make it hard” for the person asking the question, you flex that muscle and make it stronger. Making a commitment to the discipline of truth telling (in grief and beyond) you declare that you are worthy of the control it takes to be honest, and open. Each time you make a decision to tell the truth you are reinforcing the discipline you have committed to.
When someone asks how you are doing, tell them. If you are having a harder day than usual, honor that by taking a mental health day. If you are having a great day, don’t feel guilty! If you are drawn to a specific charity or cause, possibly linked to the death of a loved one, don’t second guess your interest, just check it out, and give generously, if it feels right. Start with the smallest of decisions, and choose disciplined truth again, and again. It’s the only path to healing.
And if you’re not yet sold on the merits of discipline, ask yourself: ”How happy do I want to be?”