In the year, 2000, I wrote a book\u00a0for a South African long-distance cycling champion, Johnny G, called \u201cRomancing\u00a0the Bicycle.\u201d After a punishing race that lasted three thousand one hundred\u00a0miles, he had a dream of creating an indoor training program that would prepare\u00a0cyclists for the rigor of riding on the road. He brought it to fruition and it\u00a0turned out to be a revolutionary training method called \u201cSpinning.\u201d He built a\u00a0prototype of a stationary racing bike he called the \u201cSpinner,\u201d and his program\u00a0took off.<\/p>\n
He and I were both trained athletes,\u00a0cycling for him, the ballet for me, and during one of our interviews for the\u00a0book, we discussed the different shapes that discipline takes. It can be a hard\u00a0concept, a rigid structure that takes unswerving diligence, steadiness and
fortitude, staying on track when the going gets rough, never veering off the\u00a0path. It demands impeccable focus as we \u00a0refuse to stop until we reach our goal. I recall mornings when I was in ballet training and my mind tried to seduce me into skipping practice, just for one day. I didn\u2019t succumb. Each morning, I began to expect the debate, the distant voice yakking in my head every day. \u201cShould I or shouldn\u2019t I? Will I or won\u2019t I?\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t pay attention. Instead, I
used my discipline to keep working toward my goal and one day, it softened. Discipline
turned into consistency, allowing me to move forward with ease and \u00a0transcend the debate all together. I surrendered into what was in front of me. I began to feel good about doing the same thing every day and seeing myself improvw. I looked forward to getting to the studio to rehearse instead of dreading it. My mind slowed down and I learned to balance on my toes, to spin, to jump, to be lifted gracefully into the air by a partner. It was a relief to stop battling and start breathing. To stop banishing and start welcoming.<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/p>\n
My early dedication to something I\u00a0loved has carried over into everything that I do. Right now, it\u2019s my writing.\u00a0Like most artistic endeavors, I started with a feeling of inadequacy. I judged\u00a0my work and I compared myself to other writers whom I thought were better than\u00a0I was. I thought I had no right to all myself a writer but I pushed through it.\u00a0Today, I don\u2019t think about what I call myself. Writing isn\u2019t a \u201chave to.\u201d I do it\u00a0because it gives me peace of mind.<\/p>\n
Writing isn\u2019t always easy for me. It\u00a0can be extremely challenging. Maybe I don\u2019t like a topic I chose for my weekly\u00a0blog and I delete it and start all over again. That happens a lot, it happened\u00a0today, and I use my discipline to stay with it and find something I like better.\u00a0I\u2019m working on a novel right now, 180 degrees from my non-fiction roots, and\u00a0sometimes I write myself into a corner, not sure where to go next. I stop and remember\u00a0my track record. I\u2019ve written and deleted and written and deleted many times in\u00a0my past, and it always works out in the end.<\/p>\n
If I don\u2019t use discipline to harangue,\u00a0criticize or punish myself, if I use it to gentle myself along, that\u2019s when the\u00a0good stuff shows up. I\u2019ve shifted the annoyance into familiarity. My daily\u00a0practice feels right and satisfying. I learn a lot about myself and when I\u00a0stop, it feels like I\u2019ve healed something. Spiritual leader, Stephen Levine,\u00a0titled one of his books, \u201cThe Healing I Took Birth For: Practicing Compassion.\u201d
He said, \u201cWhen an old habit shows up, don\u2019t judge yourself. Just say, \u201cBig\u00a0surprise,\u201d and carry on.<\/p>\n
Doing something over and over again\u00a0might sound boring but being disciplined leads to freedom. When you get your\u00a0mind under control, it\u2019s a great relief. When you get your body under control,\u00a0it\u2019s a great release. Just remember that we all have different ways of getting
there. Some people meditate. Others do Yoga. Some people run. Some people hike.\u00a0Some people read. I write. I\u2019ve stopped being afraid that I\u2019m not good enough. I\u2019ve\u00a0stopped thinking I should have edited it better or started over.<\/p>\n
What matters to me is making the entire\u00a0process enjoyable and focusing on the individual parts that make up the whole.\u00a0I like the click of the letters on the keyboard. I like the motion of the mouse.
I like watching the page fill up. I like losing time and during this dark
period in our history, I like having a distraction that occupies my mind and\u00a0leads me to my creativity, a wonderful place to be. For me, it\u2019s the only place\u00a0to be.<\/p>\n
Buddhist philosophy says that a\u00a0disciplined mind leads to happiness. An undiscipline mind leads to suffering. Pema\u00a0Chodron says, \u201cWithout the practice of discipline, we don\u2019t have the support we
need to evolve.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evolving is what we\u2019re trying to\u00a0do. If we want to move forward and have less pain in our lives, it would be a\u00a0good idea to avoid being harsh and angry with ourselves. If we focus on compassion \u00a0and honesty, discipline won\u2019t cause suffering. It won\u2019t feel like a tyrant. It\u2019ll\u00a0soften up and open the door to a brand new world of curiosity, invention and\u00a0imagination.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In the year, 2000, I wrote a book\u00a0for a South African long-distance cycling champion, Johnny G, called \u201cRomancing\u00a0the Bicycle.\u201d After a punishing race that lasted three thousand one hundred\u00a0miles, he had a dream of creating an indoor training program that would prepare\u00a0cyclists for the rigor of riding on the road. He brought it to fruition […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":2645,"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-2646","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\/2646","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=2646"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2646\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2647,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2646\/revisions\/2647"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2645"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2646"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2646"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2646"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}