The Problem with Discipline
A close up of a line of colourful and fun pens.
I’ve been thinking lately about how writers talk about discipline.
It feels so important, doesn't it? I cannot tell you how many times I've heard sentences like these:
“I like writing, but I have no discipline.”
“I'm not a real writer because I only write when I'm taking workshops.”
“I used to write more often. I guess I’m not disciplined enough.”
This always comes with a thick air of shame that seems to say, “I know this is a problem with me.” “I should be able to do this better.” “Everyone else has this figured out.”
Let’s start here — shame is an asshole.
It tells us that the problem is inside us. It tells us that if we were just a little more something (smart, good, disciplined) we wouldn't have this issue. It keeps us alone.
Truth is, I don’t think discipline gets us very far. It’s way too thin, too isolating. Julia Cameron says “Discipline is a weak battery.” At best, it’s a small little piece of a much more complicated process of creating writing flow.
And, I think the struggle to write, the strain of it, is way, way bigger and more universal than we let ourselves think.
Writing, when we’re really IN it, is like a river.
It’s full of flow, magic, strangeness, layers, random shopping carts, messages in bottles. It will keep us swimming in wonder for our whole lives if we let it.
But you can’t just tell water to flow. You can’t start a river with your mind. You need to create the conditions — gravity, sun, rain. You need creeks to feed it and lakes to receive it. It’s an ecosystem. Like you are.
And, each of our rivers are distinct. I can’t tell you what yours needs right now, you can’t tell me what mine does.
Here’s what’s more interesting to me than discipline: Accountability, structure and encouragement. Here’s how that tends to sound:
“Can you have that to me by Tuesday?”
“Let’s keep talking every couple weeks until this is going.”
“I’m so glad you wrote that.”
“Don’t worry, everyone has slow months.”
If each of us took the energy we put into “disciplining” ourselves (or thinking we’re going to discipline ourselves, because let’s face it, that’s usually what it is) and put it into feeding our rivers we’d have a far more creative and innovative world than we do.
What could that look like for you?
There are a million ways to get your river flowing. Finding a writing buddy, setting a deadline, going to an inspiring place to write, reading, resting, doodling, finding a workshop, a residency, a coach.
There are tributaries all around if you look for them. Then it’s up to you to lean in, receive the support, insist that you don’t have to do this alone.
Here’s to finding the glittery fish and mysterious currents that make our rivers flow, and here’s to all the places they will take us.
In it with you,
