{"id":2457,"date":"2024-02-16T09:10:15","date_gmt":"2024-02-16T17:10:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/?p=2457"},"modified":"2024-02-16T09:10:47","modified_gmt":"2024-02-16T17:10:47","slug":"the-grace-of-consistency","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/2024\/02\/16\/the-grace-of-consistency\/","title":{"rendered":"The Grace of Consistency"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Cultivating\u00a0inner discipline is something that takes patience.<\/p>\n<p>Expecting\u00a0rapid results is simply a sign of impatience.<\/p>\n<p>&#8211; &#8211; &#8211; The<br \/>Dalai Lama<\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow\u00a0do I get myself to write? I want to, but I keep getting distracted.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>This\u00a0question arises in all walks of life when effort is required to accomplish\u00a0something. As a writing coach, I hear it over and over. I\u2019ve done a lot of\u00a0writing over the years and I know the drill about watering the plants that\u00a0don\u2019t need it, dusting the shelves more than once or running a vacuum over a\u00a0perfectly clean carpet instead of sitting at the computer. Unfortunately, I know\u00a0only one tried and true way to dig in when you don\u2019t feel like it: Cultivate discipline.<\/p>\n<p>This\u00a0takes patience. It requires unswerving diligence, steadiness, fortitude and the\u00a0will to keep getting back on track when the going gets rough. Schedule a\u00a0session in your calendar as if it\u2019s a doctor\u2019s visit and show up. If you treat\u00a0it like an appointment that will charge you a cancellation fee, you could throw\u00a0some money in a box when you skip your session and buy yourself a new computer,\u00a0but that won\u2019t help you write. A British writer for the BBC told me, \u201cI wasn\u2019t<br \/>writing so I bought myself a new computer. Now, I\u2019m not writing on two\u00a0computers.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>As\u00a0much as we\u2019d like a magic bullet to get us to face the blank page, discipline\u00a0and consistency are the keys to unlock the stories that you\u2019ve hidden away and\u00a0to tackle the job of editing your work. In the year 2000, I wrote a book called,\u00a0\u201cRomancing the Bicycle,\u201d for Johnny G., the South African long distance cycling\u00a0champion who created the training craze called \u201cSpinning.\u201d It was ironic that\u00a0during Apartheid, this little Jewish boy from a well-to-do family sat in a shed<br \/>with his Black gardener and learned a powerful philosophy of life that led him\u00a0to his passion: One pedal at a time.<\/p>\n<p>When\u00a0Johnny was four and a half, in order to escape a disturbed family, he climbed\u00a0on his bicycle, pointed it in the direction of the beach, and as he rode, he discovered\u00a0his spirit and his freedom. And as he grew up, the very thing that had set him\u00a0free required diligence, discipline and consistency to become the expert that\u00a0he aspired to be and that he ultimately became.<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s\u00a0also ironic that the origin of Spinning is the polar opposite of the meditative\u00a0and repetitive training method that Johnny developed. When he was growing up, he\u00a0witnessed a violent sport called \u201croller racing.\u201d If the weather was too cold\u00a0to ride outside, cyclists would drag a piece of equipment into a bar: a set of\u00a0rollers that looked like a treadmill. After downing too many beers, the riders\u00a0put their bikes on top of the rollers and pedaled hard until they fell off and\u00a0crashed into the walls.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSpinning,\u201d\u00a0on the other hand, was a gentler indoor training for cyclists who\u00a0wanted to strengthen their resolve, monitor their heart rates and improve their\u00a0skills. One of the greatest ghostwriting perks is the opportunity to discuss\u00a0the ins and outs with people who are experts in their particular fields. During\u00a0my interviews with the cycling champion, we engaged in some fascinating philosophical<br \/>discussions about life and athletics. I had been an athlete, too, and I found\u00a0it particularly interesting when we investigated the difference between\u00a0discipline and consistency.<\/p>\n<p>For\u00a0me, although it\u2019s a necessary part of training, \u201cdiscipline\u201d is a hard word, suggesting\u00a0a rigid structure that we force ourselves to obey. Johnny told me about mornings\u00a0when he didn\u2019t want to train and his wife literally shoved him out of bed to go\u00a0get on his bicycle. I told him about mornings when my mind tried to seduce me\u00a0into skipping my ballet training \u2013 just for one day. I didn\u2019t succumb. I knew\u00a0that if I skipped one day, I\u2019d keep on doing it. The constant internal debate \u2013\u00a0should I or shouldn\u2019t I, will I or won\u2019t I \u2013 was like a voice yakking in my\u00a0ear. It was an ongoing battle and the only way to stop it or at least push it\u00a0into the background was calling on my discipline to point me where I needed to\u00a0go. And to go there.<\/p>\n<p>That\u2019s\u00a0what it took, but an unexpected spin on this occurred. A quote from Albert\u00a0Einstein comes to mind: \u201cWhen a man is sufficiently motivated, discipline will\u00a0take care of itself.\u201d It felt like grace as the more I trained, the more the discipline\u00a0softened and it began to turn into consistency. For me, that\u2019s a softer word that\u00a0suggests allowance and surrender, a way to transcend the battle altogether as<br \/>the training becomes a meditation. A way of life. Today, after I get up, I have\u00a0coffee, scan the bad news in the newspaper and go straight to the computer to\u00a0write, even if I have nothing to say. It\u2019s about creating a habit that feels\u00a0alien at first. That\u2019s the discipline part. Until it turns into a lifestyle.\u00a0That\u2019s the consistency part.<\/p>\n<p>These\u00a0concepts are true for physical and mental exercise. Buddhist teachings\u00a0emphasize the importance of mastering one\u2019s mind and behavior that will lead to\u00a0liberation from suffering. Another form of discipline. You simply have to do\u00a0the work and whether it\u2019s physical or mental, if you don\u2019t act kindly toward\u00a0yourself, whatever you want to achieve will be much harder. Or impossible. If\u00a0you shame yourself for skipping a session, you\u2019ll want to skip the next\u00a0session. If you shame yourself for not finishing something, you won\u2019t want to go<br \/>back to it. If you shame yourself for doing a bad job, you won\u2019t want to try to\u00a0fix it. If we can just leave ourselves alone and do what\u2019s in front of us, the\u00a0difficulty will lessen and our suffering will ease up.<\/p>\n<p>The\u00a0late Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, said that when he was in a car and he came\u00a0to a red light, instead of complaining about being delayed, he found his\u00a0discipline and took a moment to just breathe. What a concept.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Cultivating\u00a0inner discipline is something that takes patience. Expecting\u00a0rapid results is simply a sign of impatience. &#8211; &#8211; &#8211; TheDalai Lama \u00a0 \u201cHow\u00a0do I get myself to write? I want to, but I keep getting distracted.\u201d This\u00a0question arises in all walks of life when effort is required to accomplish\u00a0something. As a writing coach, I hear it [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":2459,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2457","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2457","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2457"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2457\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2458,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2457\/revisions\/2458"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2459"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2457"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2457"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2457"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}