IT'S AN EVERYDAY KIND OF THING

My father is one of the most disciplined people I know. When I was growing up, every morning when I came down for breakfast in my pajamas, I'd see my dad sitting in his favorite brown leather easy chair, in his bathrobe and slippers, reading his Bible. It was something I could count on, as predictable as the sunrise.

Several years ago, my dad started walking 20 minutes every morning before work. Even on those cold winter mornings when it's still dark outside, he bundles up in a hat and gloves and coat and sets out for his 20 minutes of brisk walking. I tried to join him a couple of times and gave up, deciding that I'd much rather exercise at a more decent hour of the day - maybe 11:00 in the morning, or 2:00 in the afternoon. If the sun's not even up yet, I shouldn't be up if I don't have to be. And only if the weather's not too hot and not too cold will I venture out for a semi-brisk walk of maybe 10 minutes, if I'm feeling up to it.

Sadly, I don't have the level of discipline of my dad.

But I'm trying. He's inspired me to make daily Bible reading part of my routine. He's challenged me to exercise more regularly (or at least think about exercising more regularly - actually doing it is the hard part). I want to be more disciplined in my everyday life.

So this month my friend Jennifer challenged me to write a little bit each day. I keep telling myself and my writer friends that I want to write more and get over my paralyzing perfectionism that tells me I have to tweak and revise and modify forever and ever until my writing is absolutely the best ever that could possibly be written on this particular subject. And I'm trying to move past the laziness and procrastination that tells me as soon as I sit down to write that I can't possibly write anything until I've scrubbed out that bottom produce drawer of the fridge where the pizza sauce spilled last week. Or that instead of writing, now would be a perfect time to take a nap. Or read the comics. Or bury vegetable peels in the garden. Or check the oil in my car...

Yet if I just will sit down and DO IT, I'm amazed at how much easier it is than I think it will be. The simple discipline of doing something small consistently every day is very powerful. I start to get into a routine. A habit. And suddenly it's part of my daily rhythm. It feels less threatening or scary. It feels normal. I begin to enjoy it more. And now, about 2 weeks into my challenge to write a blog post every day for a month, I'm really enjoying it! And my day just doesn't feel complete if I haven't written something. So that's why today, after I was already in my pajamas in bed, about to turn the light out, I remembered that I hadn't written a blog post today yet. And as I snuggled under the covers, I contemplated skipping a day. But I felt it would throw off my rhythm and I would start to get lazy and make excuses for not writing tomorrow and the next day. So I threw the blankets off and started typing something a few minutes before midnight, so that I would be able to keep my writing streak.

Because that's what discipline is - it's an everyday, whether I feel like it or not, in all kinds of weather, in order to form good habits, because I know it's the right choice kind of thing.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves...

Fifth grade today we was learning about Biblical poetry in Psalms, Proverbs, Job, Ecclesiastes, etc. The lesson plans said to begin by reading a favorite poem. As a substitute teacher, I didn't have time to prepare by looking up a poem to read to the class. So I decided to recite one of my all-time favorites from my childhood, Jabberwocky.

"I learned this poem in sixth grade," I told the class, "which was a looong time ago! But I still remember it!" I could tell that a few of the students had a hard time picturing me as a sixth-grade student sitting in a classroom like they were, memorizing a poem. "One reason I like Jabberwocky," I continued, "is because of all the made-up nonsensical words Lewis Carroll uses to convey an emotion, a setting, or a mood. Listen to the words in this poem and see what it makes you think of."

"'Twas brillig," I began, "and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe..." The normally rambunctious class was perfectly still and attentive. And though I stumbled on verse four a bit, I'm proud to say I was able to recite the whole poem by memory!

Here's this wonderfully fantastical story, from Lewis Carroll's book, Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There, published in 1871. Go ahead - read it aloud! It sounds much better that way...

Jabberwocky

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand,
Long time the manxome foe he sought -
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

from Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There, 1871
by Lewis Carroll