A few months ago, I started doing experiments in self-control. 30 days without alcohol. 30 days without dessert. They were inspired by a book on Stoic philosophy titled A Guide to the Good Life as well as The Marshmallow Test by psychologist Walter Mischel. The experiments taught me to appreciate things I enjoy and the conditions under which I indulge (or overindulge) unthinkingly. They were lessons in gratitude and self-awareness.
“Is self-control and self-discipline the same as “self-denial”?
Does denying one’s self something (pleasure or otherwise) really increase the “chances of living a good life”?
Can it not instead be a disguise for, or deflect , what’s really inner most in our thoughts?
Is it a way instead of avoiding something else one may not want to confront?”
Marie-Louise is a smart and intellectually curious woman whose questions always make me think. This time, she followed up her questions by suggesting a different kind of challenge.
“There is too much “learning through punishment” with the Stoics – which is why I hold my reservations about their philosophy.
But I am full of admiration for what you are trying to achieve here. I would certainly challenge you to “do”/”add” something every day for 31 days that you find “challenging” and then I will additionally challenge you to describe the difference between the two approaches and their respective affect on you?”
Challenge accepted. Instead of denying myself something, I decided to try something I had been wanting to do for some time: meditation. Every day, for 30 days, I would meditate for 10 minutes.
Marie-Louise asked “Would it not be just as good to 'add' to one’s experiences and show self-discipline in that process?”
Yes, it was just as good and in some ways better. Both approaches are empowering. The feeling of autonomy is one of our basic human motivators. Knowing I could control how I eat, drink, or think (or not eat, not drink, and not think) made me feel I could do or not do anything I truly intend.
The meditation experiment was enriching as well as empowering. I now see how in addition to being able to impose limits on myself I can open myself up to new possibilities.
That’s no small thing for me. For example, I’ve wanted to learn how to play piano for decades but I had no signs of talent and never thought I had the discipline. Now I know much of what we call talent is related to effort and that I have developed the required self-control.
I approached a teacher who’s also a family friend and she was surprised. "Are you serious? Will you really practice?" I smiled, armed with a new-found confidence in my ability to take on new challenges.
My lessons start in September. And they won’t just be for 30 days.