Destination Discipline

No matter what you think, learning discipline is not like living in a wasteland, it’s more like climbing a mountain. There is great beauty, not only at the top, but on the path along the way. When we think about addressing our vices, it feels risky–maybe even terrifying. But I propose that NOT dealing with our vices is the real wasteland–a place of desolation, and–might I risk saying–horror.

It started with a thought. But the thought was like a pinprick. I waved it away but the sting remained. Even worse, the thought had planted a seed which was starting to grow. The more I tried not to think about it, the worse it got because I was worrying over making it go away. Worry quickly turned to planning how to resolve the problem. Once the plan was hatched, I did not want to abort the mission. The next thing I knew I was standing in the candy aisle at the grocery store staring at the Nestle Caramel Treasures–brimming with expectation and shame. I was conscious of every person that passed behind me. Did they see me as I saw myself? A fat, pathetic loser? Did they loathe me as much as I did? But the desire was too strong. I could not thwart it. So I grabbed the bags(yes–several bags) and carried them as inconspicuously as I could. I stood in line. I dared not look the cashier in the eye as I greeted her and paid for my booty. That’s how I felt–like a pirate with stolen treasure. Everything inside me screamed that it was wrong and I needed to quit my terrible habit. But the need was so strong that it reduced the self-loathing thoughts into bite sized pieces I could swallow with my chocolate, piece by terrible piece. I told myself it was the last time. Until the next time. When the process started all over again.

Some people reading this will not relate to compulsive behaviors that prod and poke at the mind. But even if they do not, they have probably experienced the desire to do something they know is wrong and have fulfilled that desire against their better judgement. They deal with the consequences, whether it be minor or major. We all do it. It is an inevitable part of the human condition. We are all fragile in our attempts to deny our impulses whether we want to admit it or not.

This blog post is my weak and very human attempt to describe my approach to discipline. I am not a nutritionist or a physical fitness expert. I’m not even a motivational speaker. I’m just Margaret, a I compulsive thinker and eater. And this approach is what I have learned thus far.

Let’s begin.

Determine Your Goal. Goals are not wishes. Your goal must be something attainable. If you are training to run a marathon, you don’t get up one morning and try to run 26 miles having never even run one. Do not set yourself up for failure. That breeds discouragement and you will have enough of that without supersizing your doubt. Facing your giant–whatever that may be–can be extremely intimidating. Which leads me to my next point…

Face your fears head on. Admit it, you’re terrified. It’s okay to be afraid. Just don’t pretend your fears don’t exist. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life as my first attempt at ridding my life of sugar. I literally could not envision a life without it. Which leads me to my next point…

Be imaginative. Maybe you don’t have an artistic bone in your body. Maybe your idea of creativity is dotting a piece of paper with glue and adding glitter. The most important thing about imagination is that you have one and that you use it wisely and with good humor. When you first begin to practice discipline your brain will always return to the thing you are trying to avoid. Therefore you must fill that empty space with something else. I always read suggestions like, “Instead of eating dessert, go for a walk” or “Instead of eating dessert, pick up a fun hobby.” As if that would ever stop me from dealing with my food issues. Hunger will come and I needed a creative way to deal with it. So I have tried to have fun by looking up healthy recipes in books from the library. I have made sugar-free recipes and given myself the freedom to fail(some were awful). I have shopped at the store and picked out fruits I never tried before just for the new experience of tasting them. A friend once told me avocados were so good that “you could peel and eat them plain”. (I just wish she had told me you had to wait for them to ripen first.)

When the going gets tough, stand firm. I’m talking about fists balled up, teeth gritted, crouching tiger pose, kick-some-ass resolve. Nothing and no one is going to talk you out of it. Changing bad behavior is going to hurt. But here’s the deal… which pain is worse? The pain of remaining where you are, or the pain of going on a journey that could change your life? I used to hate exercise. I do not use the word hate lightly. I mean it with every sense of the imagination. When I took my 310 pound body for a walk around the block at a moderate pace, it was brutal. It was also a wake up call. But the exercise was not a big deal compared to building healthy eating habits. That was a whole other ball of anxiety. I remember when my friend at work made cookies and invited me to eat some. I think I had been sugar-free for only a few weeks. I said no and it hurt her feelings. Then I felt guilty. Because I really wanted cookies. But(and here’s where the imagination is key) I followed my behaviors to their legitimate end. I knew if I ate 2 cookies, I would want 4 cookies, and then 4 or 12 more. I knew I couldn’t eat just 2. So I decided not to eat any. And I sat in my cube and cried. And while I didn’t believe in that moment that I could live a healthy lifestyle for the rest of my life, I knew that I could live one day without cookies.

Chart your victories. Victories are memorable but they fade on the days you want to give up. Sometimes walking on the right path can be boring. Celebrate anyway. The past week I have been faithfully exercising, eating right, and resting in the proper proportions. I have lost zero pounds. I choose to celebrate my lack of failing anyway. I’m not talking about going on a bender(don’t do that!) It’s more like a mental pat on the back. It’s a “Hey, Margaret! You rock!” If you reach a milestone on your journey, by all means go out and dance(unless you are trying to wean yourself off of that behavior). But do something to recognize your achievement.

Prepare to fight again. The journey to learn discipline never ends. There will be good days and there will be bad days(even bad weeks and months). Prepare mentally to face your weaknesses. This can be as simple as understanding that temptation to return to old behaviors will happen, or it can be as practical as not keeping bad habit paraphernalia around. I avoided the candy aisle for nearly a year when I was building new habits. I had to. I just didn’t trust myself, and knowing that was a solid protective measure that kept me safe.

One caveat… people might think you’re weird. I have had to make peace with the fact that some people think I’m strange. In a culture that encourages indulgence as some sort of sacred right, self-discipline is looked upon as odd. But I’m not worried about what other people think. They don’t live inside my head. I do. And I’m the one who has to live with the consequences of my behaviors.

Before I knew anything about discipline, I thought of it primarily as punishment. But I have come to understand that discipline actually protects me. By dealing with the short term pain of culling bad behaviors, I have gained long-term satisfaction and pleasure because I have gained confidence that I can succeed. Or put another way, dealing with the little pain(diet and exercise) on the front end is better than dealing with the big pain(overeating and laziness)on the back end(pun intended).

Discipline is a tool, and when used properly, it can transform your life. For me, discipline has always been about bringing me closer to God. I viewed my intemperate lifestyle as a hindrance to spiritual growth. Not that I was trying to be some type of “holier-than-thou” person. Nothing could be further from my actual intention. It’s just that I had read a passage of scripture that indicated to me that as a follower of Christ I was set free from my sin, and I wanted to fully explore what that meant. After all, how could I really be free when I couldn’t stop eating to excess? For me, practicing discipline is part of the process of building a closer relationship with Jesus–who I love and adore.

I also wanted to understand what it meant to be “more than a conqueror”. (Romans 8:31-39) Before I began my journey to live a healthy lifestyle I felt like anything BUT a conqueror. I would not say the same today, though it’s quite obvious to me that I don’t have it perfected just yet.

So that is my approach to discipline. It’s not perfect and I’m sure the experts could poke a million holes in it. I probably missed something somewhere along the line, and I give myself this out: I’m still learning. And for that, I believe God gives me more grace. Today, I pray he give you more grace in your attempts as well. After all, if you are reading this you are probably human just like me. And if you’re not, well, that is another issue entirely.

Romans 8:37-39

37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[b] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Discipline is the gift we give ourselves in order to restrain our impulses, and by which we measure our success or failure toward any given goal. Without discipline, we flail around in our flesh, seeking satisfaction by whimsy while we glory in the hollow nature of our standards. In the end we achieve only the failed fantasy by way of wishing ourselves silly. A byproduct of this behavior is rationalizing our behaviors while perpetuating a lie. Regret and disappointment are sour bedfellows for those who chart an undisciplined course, and if left unchecked they morph into bitterness, resentment and secret shame.

I don’t play the lottery or gamble. There are several reasons for this, but the main reason stems from a terrible experience I had as a child. I went to a small private school, and at the end of my 6th grade year we went on a field trip to The President River Boat. Like any adolescent, I was very excited to skip class in order to cruise the river. I stepped onto that boat as if I were stepping foot on The Titanic. It was glorious! I remember the red velvet carpet and the shimmering glass in the windows. I remember the wood-paneling in the halls, and the winding stair case between levels. We had full range of the vessel, which was a freedom I was infrequently afforded at that period of my life. I ran back and forth, inside and out, round and round with my friends. And while engaged in that activity, I noticed–and was quickly captivated by–the machine that offered up stuffed animals for a quarter by way of a small mechanical crane.

The only money I had was the $10 my sweet mother had given me for lunch. I hardly remember that wrinkled ten dollar bill for how fast I exchanged it for a $5 bill and some quarters. I rationalized that I could spend a dollar or two, walk away with a toy, and still have money for the spectacular meal (a juicy burger and a pile of fries) all the kids were going to buy for lunch. But I was so intent on winning a precious stuffed animal that I kept chugging quarters into the machine until all I had left was a measly two or three bucks. Even then I didn’t despair. I told myself that my teacher would be more than happy to give me a few dollars to make up the difference because no adult would dare let a poor, innocent child go hungry.

I was shocked when my teacher declined my request. I began to ask my friends for extra change, but they all said no. And so I was left with the churn of the paddlewheel as it rotated in sync with my churning stomach, and a seemingly endless amount of hours between myself and dinner with only a stale soft pretzel to assuage my pain. The day suddenly went from luxurious to cold, gray and bitter. I spent the rest of my hours aboard that boat feeling as if I had landed in prison and I had only one thought, “I just want to go home.”

As I look through the lens of time I realize that even if I had I won the stuffed animal, I still would have been miserable because I still would have been hungry. That toy was an idol I worshipped above all else and reaching it would have given me a moment of satisfaction, but then the reality of my situation would have eclipsed that pleasure. How do I know this? Because I have spent years chasing pleasures that never fulfilled the longings of my heart.

There are many ways by which people measure success. Be it weight loss, monetary gain, beauty, rank or title, a goal achieved is a reason to celebrate. But I have discovered that discipline is a far more powerful motivator. Discipline has taught me who I am and knowing myself is important. Learning to curb the behaviors I thought defined me showed me I am not a slave to my desires because I learned that my desires lie to me.

Live abstemiously. Living otherwise – what Pascal calls ‘licking the earth’ – imprisons us in a tiny dark dungeon of the ego, and involves us in the pitiless servitude of the senses. – Malcolm Muggeridge

I have always loved to eat. As a child I sought out sugary treats to fill the vacancies in my heart. It’s a tired, old story, but it is mine. If forced to choose between fudge and human companionship, I would probably have chosen the fudge. Holed up in a dark room, with a romance novel to fulfill my relational fantasies, I could indulge the senses and stave off the real world for a while. Our culture pokes fun at this practice, as if such hedonistic activity is a natural occurrence and therefore insignificant. This behavior is condoned for some. After all, if one doesn’t wear the visage of unrestrained passion, and does not offend the senses of others, have at it. But this is a lie too. This behavior—regardless of perception—is a corrupting practice. When we seek only to gratify ourselves, we in essence please no one. One can apply this logic to any vice. Taken to the extreme, every vice has the capability to destroy us, whether it be gluttony or exercise, and these are mild examples.

I am guilty of justifying my behavior and blaming others for my failures. Discipline forced me to take responsibility for my actions in thought and in deed. It enabled me to peer through the microscope of pain and gain a clear view of my heart. For while I can lie to others, I cannot lie to myself. I can create the fantasy world and even live fairly peaceably in it for a while, but reality cannot be escaped forever, just as my hunger could not be ignored upon relinquishing my money to a machine that did not pay off.

So why discipline? Because I want something real. I am tired of the fantasies.

Next time…
How to Discipline

Life in the land of bean counters is not always good, but when it’s good, it is VERY good. When all of the beans have been counted and sorted, sometimes it’s nice to sit back and smile and celebrate my accomplishments. Smiling is a very satisfying endeavor when done correctly. It requires facial muscles and good humor, and we should always be thankful when we have facial muscles. Am I right or am I right?

Today was a particularly satisfying day in that I got a visit from the Good Fairy. The Good Fairy granted my wish by giving me magic beans (she cancelled a whole bunch of meetings), thereby evoking exclamations of glee from this sometimes gloomy girl. I asked the Good Fairy if she was willing to grant more wishes in the form of gold nuggets, but alas, she said she was tapped out. Still, I was content. It’s not every day I get the gift of magic beans and we should always be grateful for such fantastic events.

I decided to share my joy by smiling and laughing and making lots of weird jokes to all of the wonderful people I work with. You see, sometimes counting beans can be very stressful and people can get a little grumpy. One problem I have formerly discussed in this space is how the company I work for is a cornucopia of delectable treats. There is usually cake, or cupcakes or cookies or bagels or some other such food decorating the filing cabinets. Since I have compulsive behaviors, I am sometimes prone to snatch those goodies. Unfortunately, I am often the unwilling victim of the Guilt Monster. He usually grabs me somewhere along the way between procuring the tasty vittles and my cubicle, and since I have a terrible time throwing perfectly good candy away, over time, I end up with a fairly sizeable stash of treats.

Today I took advantage of this horrible compulsive behavior and began re-gifting. Now re-gifting candy is not like re-gifting your left-over Christmas socks. It actually makes people happy. Except when they are trying to lose that extra Christmas heft, by which means they passive aggressively hate me after our encounter has concluded. Still, I feel good about sharing smiles. Even my dentist, the venerable Louise First, would be happy to know I have been handing out Snickers bars rather than hard candy. She once told me it is better for tooth enamel that we eat our candy quickly(chocolate vs. peppermints), rather than suck on it for long periods of time. And making my dentist happy makes me happy.

One of the other ways I shared joy was by renaming places I frequent that have—in my humble opinion—boring names. For instance, I suggested we rename the restroom The Vestibule of Relief. The other ladies I met there wholeheartedly agreed and so the matter is settled. The next time I am in a meeting I hereby solemnly swear to refer to it as such when I excuse myself. Cubicles will be called Corners of Quiet (because no one like a loud cube-mate). Elevators shall be called Bliss Boxes, because seriously—only weird healthy people take the stairs and not exerting energy between boring meetings is rather blissful when you think about it. And meetings will be called Kwickie Conventions. Because “I’m going to a Kwickie Convention” sounds much cooler than, “I’m going to a meeting.”

For those at home who don’t have the privilege of working in an office under the title of Bean Counter, don’t despair. You too can rename the boring spaces in your home, or even the children under your care(For instance, I lovingly refer to my own children as beastlets because—as they well know—they are in fact not full grown beasts yet). In fact, I wholeheartedly encourage you to do so in the comments. Because sharing smiles is one of the very most important activities of living a healthy lifestyle. And I might be gloomy again tomorrow so I’ll take all the smiles I can get.

Lastly, I made a quick stop at the grocery store on the way home and saw the largest, the most beau-ti-licious, the most incredibly edible looking cauliflower I have ever set my eyes on. So I bought one. This one is for my sister, the Cauliflower Queen. Smile, Sis! You deserve it!