The friendly monster.
As a chronic daydreamer and someone who does not feel like they have complete dominion over their thoughts and emotions, I used to see discipline as the ultimate villain. I never wanted to let my creative spirit fall prey to this ruthless monster that would suck all of the joy and freedom out of it.
Some discipline is inevitable. I learned this early on, as one does.
There are people who thrive on discipline, on rules, on structure. I would assume it’s because it gives them an illusion of control, a clear roadmap, a system to fall back on no matter what life throws at them.
If you had asked me a couple of years back, I would’ve said - in a heartbeat - that I’m not one of these people. But life has taught me (and I listened, for a change) that sometimes it’s worth giving your beliefs room to grow and change.
But how can I grow if I always walk on the beaten path, and never question it?
Turns out discipline can be a friendly monster. An ally that I can persuade to work in my favor. It can serve as my anchor when I’m flooded with ideas, thoughts and feelings. If I dare loosen my grip on my beloved ‘creative freedom’, discipline can even reward me with a boost of confidence.
Who would’ve guessed?
Recently, I joined a tiny writing club with some of my co-workers (one of whom is actually a published writer). To say that I’m thrilled about this would be an understatement. Just thinking about it makes me feel giddy with joy.
At any rate, the way we go about it is: every week, we get some ‘homework’ in the shape of writing prompts, we each write our stuff and share it on a group chat.
The first time I sat down to do my ‘homework’, I was terrified. It pushed me way out of my comfort zone. I did much better the second time around. There is something seriously exciting about getting to open a new door each week, never knowing what comes next.
Someone else points the way, but the journey is my own.
The whole jumping head first into the unknown was never really my thing, but I seem to be doing it more and more these days, and it’s low-key life-changing.
Anyway, this little writing exercise showed me that I can actually write about anything. That I can craft stories out of nothing, on the go. That I can be just as honest and vulnerable as ever in my writing, even when someone else controls part of process.
This gives me hope. And joy. And an unexpected dose of confidence.
I’m not ready to give up my creative freedom. To sacrifice my joy of writing for the sake of consistency. If I do that, I might as well put down my pen (or take my fingers off the keyboard), close up shop and go home. But this newfound version of discipline is something I’m willing to work with.
Maybe, in the end, discipline is just about commitment for me. It sounds less scary too.
The commitment to be truthful in my writing even when somebody else holds some of the cards. The commitment to pay attention to the world around me, to listen, to watch and to spot patterns. The commitment to allow myself to feel deeply, use my voice and write with intention.
Discipline has showed me its friendly face.
I wonder how many other monsters I’ve misjudged in my life so far. Could I maybe make friends with them too?