I’ve always admired people who have goals.
Goals come to me much in the same way as sinus infections: about once a year, and they’re always a doozy.
Last year, my great goal was to get organized. I was staying with my twin sister when it overtook me. It was New Year’s Day, and while she was wisely sleeping in, I woke up early to scour the Internet, trying to research my way into better organization. I think my sister could sense my new, better organized energy because later that morning, she came into the guest room with a book on organization all ready for me. (She has a library degree). “Look!” I declared, with the zeal of a new convert. “This is how I’m going to organize my work email!” “Uh-huh,” she said. She knows I have many enthusiasms, and many of them don’t last.
So, goals often elude me. But discipline doesn’t.
Inherently, I don’t like that word. Nothing about it appeals to me, except that I do have discipline. I’ve maintained a daily prayer practice for almost a decade. Some days I can’t wait to pray. Most days it’s just a routine. But when I have a sinus infection, or something else comes up, I miss my discipline like it’s a member of my own family. I notice its absence; I long for its return.
To all the Myers-Briggs P’s and J’s out there; in other words, to all humans—may you find some discipline that orders your day and grounds your life.