It feels like my 20s are an ongoing series of existential crises with multiple sequels that nobody asked for and yet keep coming anyways.
Every once a while, it drops a life lesson at some inconvenient time.
Discipline is not just a mental game.
When I was younger, I wanted more motivation so reaching my goals would be easier. A few years ago, I realized discipline, not motivation, is what will get me there. This year, it finally sank in that discipline only comes as a 2-for-1 deal with sacrifice. Motivation is hard to control, but discipline by definition can be controlled by the self. And all the unpleasant business you’ve got coming your way is because you made it so.
Since I made discipline a focus, it came as a surprise the frequency and unequalness of how much I had to give up. I was cutting out activities I genuinely enjoyed and found meaningful, activities that formed a large part of my summer routine. The transition period is taking bloody forever; I’ll probably be used to it by the time next summer rolls around.
What I wanted (and got):
- Healthy diet
- A gym routine
- 7-8 hours of sleep every night
- Passing my master’s courses
- Doing my job well
What I gave up:
- Watching TV shows (including services like Netflix, Hulu etc.)
- Watching movies (I watched 1 movie in theatres, and 2 at home in the 4 months since I got here.)
- Having a full two-day weekend
- Sleeping in late, any day
- Reading books/the news
- Any sort of unplanned, spontaneous outing
- Eating whatever I want (and meat…)
- A free evening without any obligations
- Drawing
- Learning Chinese
Is it painfully obvious that one list is longer than the other? At least I already don’t drink alcohol or coffee.
What I’ve learned: if I have a goal in any way, there is a price attached to it. It’s not a one-time payment, I cannot negotiate the price, and it’s not a 1:1 ratio. It seems life only works on a pricey subscription model of payments.
I’m constantly re-evaluating these choices–typically as I get up in the dark at 6:30 and wonder what I’m doing with my life–but I’m aware what they are and what I receive in return. I find the sacrifices worthwhile…for now.
A frustrating part wonders if I’m even making the right choices. I often worry that I would make a boring conversationalist because I know next to nothing about TV shows, movies, sports, or the latest news. Is (maybe) being a bore worth being able to run 5k 3 times a week? I don’t know. Are unplanned evenings worth giving up so I’m not wasting my money on a master’s? Well, yes to this one actually. It changes day by day and action by action.
It has made me appreciate the mundane things a lot. If I get a rare day to sleep in, read, or watch a movie I feel much more indulgent than before. Normal things become so luxurious it actually does feel like my life is full of more joyful moments than before–odd but true.
I leave you with this thought:
The idea that being good at your job means sacrificing reading, a healthy relationship with food, and enjoying life (spontaneity, relaxed evenings) is extraordinarily unhealthy.
No, I would not give up my hobbies (art, learning new things like languages) to run a 5k, that sounds miserable! Maybe I don’t have the job performance you do, but at least I can hold a conversation with a stranger.
Hey, thanks for taking the time to leave a comment!
I think you’ve mismatched the items on the lists and misjudged the severity of some. Not all of the things were for being good at my job — that was mostly the TV and movies. Giving up eating what I want is not necessarily unhealthy, because what I really want to eat is KFC and pizza every day. I also have to disagree that planned evenings make life less enjoyable, as much as planned fun can sound like an oxymoron.
It’s still sacrifice, but I’m (hopefully) not veering into deprivation territory *fingers crossed*