Today, I’m pondering the relationship between discipline and creative spiritual growth.

You, too?

Nah, just me?

I’ve spent most of my life being not very disciplined. It’s kind of haunted me, and now I have two kids who aren’t very disciplined either. But hey, they can tell a joke, hold a conversation with an adult, and are pretty creative in their own right.

So I guess what I’m saying, kids, is “you’re welcome.” 🤗

I think it’s safe to say that this lack of discipline—and the journey to developing it—is part of my path.

What path?

Any path.

The one I’m on.

I want to learn how to trust the wisdom of my body and give myself permission to be my authentic self, so that I can feel connected, confident, and in balance.

I told my life coach yesterday. Yes, I have a life coach. Yes, it makes my stomach turn to say those words out loud. Yes, I don’t know why.

Detour:

Actually, I do know why. It’s because I tend to devalue a profession that has a low barrier to entry. This is a giant chip on my shoulder. Instead of acknowledging that there are good life coaches and bad life coaches, just as there are good and bad therapists, doctors, teachers, and so on, I lump them all together.

I don’t know if it’s my age, but my deepest self has been calling out to me for the past five years. It began as a whisper, growing more insistent as I moved further away from her. Then, it came on real heavy when my body plunged into issues of panic and anxiety, culminating in a year-and-a-half-long manic episode that resulted in a bipolar 2 diagnosis. Suddenly, my deepest self was screaming, “Help!”

"Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional."

This phrase, often attributed to Haruki Murakami and rooted in Buddhist teachings, serves as a reminder, a mantra of sorts, especially when it comes to creativity.

I rely on this wisdom as part of my toolkit whenever my artistic endeavors—my very essence as an artist—go unnoticed or ignored. Which is a lot. Especially when you create a lot.