Loving Discipline

An interesting side note: I want to share the etymology of ‘discipline’ before we begin. Like many words, its original Latin meaning has been twisted and shaped over time. What grew from ‘discipulus’ (pupil, student) and ‘disciplina’ (teaching, learning, knowledge, instruction given) now feels a bit icky and rotten when you look it up on Google dictionary.

Many people often associate discipline with punishment, but I’ve always resonated with its origins of education. Because at the end of the day, that’s what it feels like. Being the student of life, learning over and over again to show up for yourself and follow through with your intentions.

I’m also a Capricorn sun, moon and stellium, so make of that what you will.

🧲 🧲. 🧲

Loving discipline a practice I’ve cultivated over the past few years, anchored in the intention of evolving into my higher self.

In 2020, I did a lot of guided meditations and hypnosis sessions that always seemed to direct us to connecting with our higher selves (definitely one of the lovelier ways I spent my time).

I envisioned a woman who oozes strength and power. Not from her job or her status in the world, but from a solid, grounded inner knowing of who she is and what feels true. 

Coming out of the practice, I would reflect on my life and what I felt was missing or desired to experience more of. I couldn’t necessarily experience all of it in that time, but certain themes and practices started calling to me.

By mid-year, deep in Melbourne’s never ending lockdown, the pull of a morning ritual was stronger than ever before, and for the first time in my life I had no excuse not to. I had the time, I was self-employed, I couldn’t leave the house — I had nothing to lose.

As expected, the hardest part about creating said ritual was showing up. I was creating a new story, literally rewiring my brain every morning to accept and believe that “after brushing my teeth I sit on the couch and immediately do x”.

It took months of experimentation to find a rhythm. And then said rhythm changed when Melbourne opened up again. And it changed again when I went back to uni full time. 

The rhythm was evolving, the practices shapeshifting depending on the season, but the loving discipline — there, always.

I still actively lean into it because most days getting up earlier to an alarm is hard. Choosing between more sleep and gentle movement is not always an easy decision. I still have plenty of days where I moan and feel grumpy and show up to the mat with zero enthusiasm.

But I show up because of the loving discipline, the skill I have developed over years of commitment and repetition, so I have a sturdy trunk to lean on when my brain wants to stay in bed.

I show up because I immediately feel lighter when I start moving. The knots and sourness and fatigue lift within 10, 20 minutes. I leave the mat feeling clear and awake, but most importantly, regulated. I feel solid enough to interact with the world, to handle my puppy barking, to deal with bad news. 

I also move through the day knowing that regardless of what happens, I’ve dedicated time to myself and my well-being. I’ve consciously chosen nourishment, I’ve played the long game. If everything goes to shit, I rest a little lighter knowing I’ve done something that day to take care of myself. 

And that, my friends, is what I call loving discipline. Showing up for yourself when you don’t want to. Even if it’s just 5 minutes. Even if it’s just laying on the floor breathing with intention. Even if it’s just stretching in bed. 

Your design of loving discipline doesn’t have to be the same as mine. It might involve completely different practices, it might happen throughout the day or right before bed, it might be focused on drinking water or eating breakfast, it might be as simple as going to bed by 10.

It’s not sexy, it’s rarely fun, but god damn does it feel satisfying when you honour it.

That feeling of choosing to do something for your health and/or wellbeing and actually following through is everything. And every time you do it, every time you gift yourself this loving discipline, you are providing evidence to your brain that you can. That it’s possible. That change is available at any time.

Eventually, it does get easier. The sequence of events becomes routine, you get used to waking up an hour earlier than you need to, you even start to enjoy the solitude and sacredness of this time for you.

On the rare days when you miss it — like getting up at 4am for a flight after 3 hours’ sleep — you do what you can and make peace with it. There are allowed to be off days. You are allowed to miss the ritual on holidays. You are allowed to sleep in when you’re bleeding. You make the rules, after all.

But when you do need some bolstering, a pillar to hold you up, some encouragement to bring you to the mat, you have this skill available to you at any time. Think of it like a reserve tank — when you think there’s nothing left, it picks you up and says “You can do this. If you choose not to, that’s okay. But if you really want this in your day today, I’ve got you.”. At least that’s how mine sounds.

Take care,

Viv