The Obnoxious Allure of Discipline

You’ve heard Karma’s a b*tch, but have you seen the comments on her cousin?

Discipline gets a lot of bad press. Images of militant males ready to beat you into submission for coloring outside the lines come to mind, or so-called religious leaders ready to smack you with a ruler — or worse — for even thinking about it.

Even a simple Google search, displaying results from “the definitive record of the English language,” the Oxford Dictionary, will show that possible definitions of the word include:

1. (noun) The practice of training people to obey rules or a code of behavior, using punishment to correct disobedience.

2. (verb) Punish or rebuke formally for an offense.

The Middle English origin of it, the omniscient resource adds, is “mortification by scourging oneself,” while its highest recorded use is during the mid-1800s, a time marked by The Great Potato Famine, the Mexican War and the stranded Donner Party resorting to cannibalism.

Lots of images you could color there. But who’d want to?

With all these negative associations, it’s no surprise that the often misunderstood and sometimes feared right-wing black sheep of the party doesn’t make a lot of friends.

Sure, he’s lean, has great posture, gets eight hours of sleep every night, and probably has a chiseled jawline and several bookcases filled with multi-volume works you’ve always wanted to read — but that’s not going to get him any new followers.

His insights are pretty spot-on though, annoyingly, and you can’t help but notice that he’s always the sharpest dressed. His car’s pretty dope too, if you care about that sort of thing.

I suppose one could be persuaded to be intrigued, if only for a moment. In fact, is he not perceived as at his best when only experienced in small increments?

Let’s say you decide to sit at his table.

It’s not a date — you want to be clear about that. Just a healthy curiosity at this point; a willingness to be open to the possibility of getting to know what it’s like being the strong one, ever-maintaining a façade of controlled calm.

It’s an investigation, really. For scientific purposes.

He informs you right away that you can’t stay long. You’ve already disrupted his schedule and he can’t afford any distractions or emotionally charged volatility.

Which, incidentally, turns you on, though you dare not question why.

You try to be light and loose, casual but genuine; empathetic yet inquiring.

“Isn’t it exhausting, being you?” you playfully ask.

“Not as tiring as not being me,” he fires back. “How do you think things get done?”

His intensity wanes a bit from your visible discomfort. He checks his watch.

He has somewhere to be, something to do, someone to meet, and a reason for all of it, so you’d better wrap this up or be prepared to leave with him.

“It just seems so hard,” you say, mostly to yourself.

He gently places his calloused hand on top of yours, disarming you instantly.

“Have you ever seen blinders on a horse?”

“Yes.”

“Did you think it was cruel?”

“Not if it needs to go somewhere specific. But I’m not a horse.”

“No,” he smiles. “Where you’re going is far more important.”

With that, he smiles, pats your hand and rises.

And just before that sly bastard turns, he winks, leaving you insanely infuriated and intoxicatingly inspired.

It’s not that you want what you can’t have. It’s that he shows up, consistently, and all you ever do is avoid or flirt with him.

You exhale, letting the thought escape and your body relax into its relegated slouch.

You look around, realizing there’s no one else you’d rather talk to right now; no one to guide you to that active inward realizing that leads to outward goal-getting.

You can’t help but wonder what your life would be like if you went after him.

What if you dared to show up with him, elbows locked and chins held high?

Could you do it? Would you stay with him?

You breathe in. Straighten up.

It’s certainly worth a try.

A steady, long-term relationship with a committed partner and knowledgeable guide who sees all you want to accomplish and will help you get where you want to go.

That’s the one you want to be with.

...For short increments, of course.