Lately, I've been wrestling with discipline. It's become clear to me that I thrive under pressure, but it's a force that's more impactful when it's external—when the stakes aren't set by me. It's sometimes tough to motivate myself from within. I've been pondering over the concept of deadlines, and how they're not just arbitrary markers; they're instruments of momentum. They're society's way of keeping us moving forward, avoiding stagnation. Stores inevitably have to close so people can rest, elections need to be decided so change can be implemented, etc. etc. And it ties back to my musings about magnetism from last week, social forces that drive us, but almost at a scope another level broader.
This introspection has led me to a realization – motivation, true motivation, must stem from sources beyond self-assigned timeframes. There needs to be a sense of urgency, an element of loss. I think loss aversion is the biggest motivator for me. Think about it – when an opportunity slips away, and you know it won't return, that sting of loss drives you emotionally. I'm contemplating shifting my timelines to evoke this sense of loss, to give me a more compelling and real reason to motivate myself.
However loss presents emotional challenges, as it’s a particularly dark motivator. The process of applying for apartments, seeking new job prospects, or studying for an exam and then realizing that there are limited time frames to find closure in a lot of those activities makes me want to bring my full force and effort to try to succeed. And to avoid the loss of the opportunity.
But while I try not to be too hard on myself, I recognize that a balanced mix of loss and fear can fuel my progress. It’s a tricky path – in order to realize positive change you need to cast the alternatives in a lens of negativity. When you may experience that loss, you then have to shift your internal narrative to a state of reflection, learning, and forgiveness.
This strategy almost feels like opening the ups and downs to a wider amplitude of extremes. On the positive side, I invest deeper into what I’m hoping to achieve. On the negative side, the loss is greater, so it takes more to re-equalize myself.
With such intensity, I think it becomes even more important to be discerning and specific about what to commit to. Time, the ultimate element, constantly orchestrates change. It's like a dance with entropy and decay. Navigating this chaos demands specificity, and I've spent this past week honing my focus on what my criteria really are. These criteria, admittedly subject to shifts inspired by life’s changes, are what I’m hoping will help align my discipline to say “no” to more of what I am lukewarm on in life and “yes” to what I know I’d be interested in.
As I look back on the past couple of months, it's apparent that I've spent a considerable time in sabbatical, exploring avenues that resonate with my interests. The process of thematically aligning my pursuits is like setting up guardrails, preventing me from straying too far. Much like how talking about your side-projects can prevent you from getting them done, it might be that talking about your guardrails and specificity could also affect your ability to commit to them.
It's challenging, though; sometimes, I feel the small tug of tons of directions. Even the impending pressure of a deadline can be softened by sudden inspiration from something totally different, redirecting my focus. Yet, sometimes the force of social magnetism encourages me to commit to certain paths.
This is the rhythm of life – a constant battle against time and constraints. The path to self-discovery is riddled with reinventions and adaptability. It's hard to admit that to go forward I’m going to have to leave things by the wayside. But as I try to enhance my discipline, I find that specificity is a good thing. Loss aversion, too, plays its role – shaping my pursuits in a more intense context to demand more of myself when I don’t feel like it. And above all, committing myself to the process of going after what I have a strong hunch I’d like.
As I think about discipline, the threads of social magnetism, personal identity, and commitment weave together, propelling me towards a future where loss becomes a motivator, specificity steers me, and a resilience against even more intense highs and lows becomes a necessity.