Discipline Equals Freedom
In a previous era of life, I would’ve been rolling my eyes and even stifling a giggle at the corniness of this line.
I was at the gym the other day and spotted a seriously muscular man sporting a tank top that said “Discipline Equals Freedom.” In a previous era of life, I would’ve been rolling my eyes and even stifling a giggle at the corniness of this line. And let’s be real, most previous eras of life would not have found me in the free weights section of a YMCA on a Tuesday morning at 6am. But this is part of my regular routine now, and as I read the words on the man’s shirt while resting between sets my initial thought was, “Rock on! So true, muscle man!”
I used to have a complicated relationship with exercise. I still have a complicated relationship with discipline, but don’t we all? For most of my 20s, exercise was on-again, off-again. I’d pick up something new that I liked - running, yoga, briefly kickboxing - and devote myself to it for a while. But inevitably something would interrupt the routine. I worked in theater and video production and my schedule was unpredictable. Or a surprise injury would get me out of the gym for a while. It was a nagging kind of relationship: when I wasn’t exercising regularly I was always meaning to get back to it, another thing on the long list of shoulds I carried around.
Then the year I turned 31 I signed up for a 150-mile bike ride called Ride for the Feast, a fundraiser for the Moveable Feast. For the first time, I trained like an athlete: speed, endurance and strength. I did group training rides with my team in the months leading up to the event. And when the weekend came, I amazed myself by completing the course without a hitch. It was such a sense of accomplishment, and the feeling stuck with me. I started to see exercise as more of a journey than a destination, movement as privilege instead of punishment, joyful rather than draining. I had set a goal for myself and prepared for it with dedication. I was hooked.
The thing about fitness is that it can become a cornerstone habit. To me, developing discipline means building trust with myself. I build trust with myself just the way I would build trust with anyone: by doing the things that I say I’m going to do. And that’s where “self-talk” becomes crucial in the path to building discipline. First, in the way that I set my goals and second, in the way that I speak to myself while I try to attain them. Deciding to do the bike ride was a great goal for me: well beyond my fitness ability but still attainable. I already owned a road bike and loved to ride it. I had access to a gym and spin bikes. My goal had a clear end date and I had a community of people supporting me in the training.
I’ve taken this methodology of goal-setting into other areas of my life. Most of my professional experience has been as a motion graphics designer. Recently, I decided to pursue user experience/product design as well. This is a great goal for me because I already have a basis for digital design, but there’s so much more to learn and practice. And I’ve gotten specific with the goal by planning to design and launch a new mobile app in the next year. It’s ambitious but attainable, it excites me and scares me at the same time. A little bit of fear and a lot of joy, that’s the sweet spot for me when it comes to setting goals for myself, whether it's professionally, with fitness or even with my garden.
I used to think that structure stifled my creativity. But as I’ve gotten older, and dare I say wiser, my thoughts around discipline have changed. The simple truth is that you have to repeat things to get better at them. And the longer you repeat them, the more space and freedom you have to grow in that particular area. As you build trust with yourself, your discipline morphs into devotion, into sacred ritual. Waking up before my kids and driving to the Y as the sun rises is truly an act of love for me now. I love how my mind and body feel when I work out regularly, but I also love that every day I do the things I say I’m going to do, I’m building a stronger relationship with myself.
My “self-talk” has evolved over the years. My inner voice can veer into harsh territory when I feel like I’ve failed or fallen short of my potential. I try to strike a balance between setting goals that challenge me while being kind to myself. I’m still a work in progress, but I’ve learned to trust myself and know that if I get still and quiet on a regular basis, my heart has a natural direction toward which it’s pulling. And sometimes I’m in a “grow and go” phase and sometimes I’m in a “rest, restore and reflect” stage. Both are needed for goal-getting and it’s no surprise that both are needed for fitness. The process of building one’s strength, speed, agility and endurance must be balanced with rest days, sleep and nutrition.
Which brings me back to the gym and mister muscle man. As a mom of two in her late 30s who only started lifting last year, you wouldn’t think that we would have much in common. But as we both took a break in between sets, he saw me read the words on his shirt and a knowing nod passed between us. And then we both got back to work.
This essay was featured in Issue 005: The Sacred Architecture of Discipline. Read the Full Publication
Ali Walton is a contributing writer for The Sacred Business Writer’s Collective focused on creating animations that delight and mobile apps that inspire folks to pursue their greatest good. You can follow her on Substack here.
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