Discipline

Laying on my mattress, in Bangkok.

It’s been said that discipline is the beginning of wisdom…
Actually, I don’t know if that’s been said, but it should be said. I believe fear of the lord is the beginning of wisdom is what I was raised to believe, but as I’ve gotten older, it’s become more obvious is discipline, thought I hate to say it, really is the source of all progress, emotionally, intellectually, or physically.

A poorly disciplined spirit knows no bounds to the pain it succumbs to; suffering is drawn to those weary spirits who know no discipline.

I was contemplating discipline as it relates to love.

I wonder if this is the key to happiness? Or is disciplining love is entirely foolish.

When I leave, my heart wants to leap out of my chest and surrender itself every moment. I’m not sure this is the best way to go about loving. But then again, there is a unique vulnerability to this surrender, a vulnerability that can be admired, or despised. And I’m not sure which it evokes more, or why.

Linnea. I still think of her. I wrote her on December 31st as I was flipping through my journal. She always knows the right words to say. I wonder if I have that effect on her. Whenever I read her, I am hungry for more. I wonder what she’s like. I wonder if we’ll ever meet. I wonder if it’s an illusion in my mind, and she’s a deranged sociopath bent on having people fall for her. And then I wonder if I’m the same type of sociopath. Huh. I don’t think so. It’s not malicious anyway, and all I want is love. I never hurt anyone intentionally. I’d much rather run away. I’m not a fan of conflict.

Anyway. I’m in Bangkok. It’s been over two weeks with the family, and the time is slowly wearing on me. I’ve experienced all the vicissitudes of feeling.

My family dog Lola died this morning. Very tragic. She was in the care of my uncle. While she was sick, she did have several more years left in her, but my uncle simply didn’t know or act soon enough to realize that she was weak and sick. Thirteen years old. My family is devastated. Especially because we couldn’t be there for her. I’m upset. I haven’t cried yet, but I want to. I wonder if I will. She was the sweetest dog ever.

I want to travel, and learn more languages. Traveling makes me want to quit my job and go to far off lands and learn languages and read about history and culture and religion and philosophy and understand it all, and write about it all.

It also makes me want to be more disciplined, to learn more, do more, plan more, scheme more, build more. I want to be more productive with my time, I want to discipline myself to doing what I need to do to master what I desire to master.

Sciences, philosophies, become a monk for a year, learn all of physics, study it all and be able to teach it all. Engineer solutions to social problems. Build businesses. Invest wisely. Save money. Learn many languages and never stop. I want to sculpt. I want to write more music, and learn more instruments. I want to learn the piano, and compose works of art! I want to express more. And do more. And be more and never ask for permission!

I visited a lot of temples today. The king died at 89 years of age and the entire country is in morning. Lines of 50,000 people a day come to see the casket before the king is cremated. The entire city is garbed in black out of respect.

I also think about how small I am, and the importance of humility. I want to be so humble. My ego is so damn large and obnoxious sometimes.