Here's a controversial take: discipline is overrated. It's what people lean on when they don't understand the game they're playing.
Everyone talks about discipline like it's the answer. "Just be disciplined. Just force yourself. Just push through."
But you have the whole thing wrong.
Discipline is doing things when you don't want to. But why wouldn't you want to? When it makes sense?
And if it makes sense but you don't want to, that means you don't understand.
There are three states:
Identifying desire - Why are you doing what you're doing at an innate level? Why do you want that in the first place? This is tied to your ego and belief system. What is it that you actually want?
Identifying homework - Understanding the game. What is required? If you don't know the homework, you practice until you know the homework. That's the feedback loop.
Practicing - If you know the homework, you practice. You do the work. You're playing in the arena.
These three states move you forward. When you're not in any of these states, you're stuck.
So it just makes sense to go out there and do shit. Work. Be playing in the arena.
It ain't discipline. It's just what you gotta do.
Understand the game first.
People want to "get good at tennis." So they fixate on certain spikes or skill moves. They focus on how they hit the ball.
But tennis isn't about how you hit the ball.
Tennis is a 1v1 competition. You earn a point when the other person fails to hit the ball back. That's how you win. Not based on how good you hit the ball.
When you understand that, your focus shifts. You watch the opposing player. Their position. You capitalize on where they are. More importantly, where they aren't.
Then when you notice you can't direct the ball to the spots you intend, you practice how you hit.
The sequence matters.
1. Understand the game
2. Understand what that game requires (the homework)
3. Observe what's happening
4. Note where you're coming short
5. Address the limitations
You're not "disciplining yourself to practice your serve." You're observing that you can't place the ball where you need it to go, so you work on that. It's logical. It makes sense.
The same applies to running.
People say "I want to run a marathon." Okay, what does that actually mean?
It's not about completing 26 miles. It's not like nothing happens until you cross that line.
You're essentially demanding agency from "god." Please give me the freedom to run 26 miles and be normal and sane.
That's what you're asking for. You're demanding physical agency.
Okay, then that means you need a body that functions mile to mile. So you naturally pay attention to your body. You don't yell at yourself "I'm gonna do 10km, 15km, 20km!" No.
You try. You listen. You note. You study what's wrong. You improvise form. You add warm-ups. You listen to your body.
Sometimes my mind gets bored during a run. No new body symptoms yet, but my mind goes "uhh" because I've never done this distance before. Then I think: but I haven't had any new physical symptom yet. I didn't learn anything from this run about my body.
And that's the whole point of running.
So I say okay, let's keep running till I feel a new symptom. A new slight pressure. A new milestone.
This is why you should be meticulous and detail-oriented. Not because you "have to." Because it makes sense.
When you're used to it, you have a new lens for seeing things. What once was a bug getting in the way of your goal of 26 miles is now a feature. Each body ache tells you about your body. How you should train. Where you should reinforce.
That's the way you need to go about it.
This applies everywhere.
Interviewing. The game: power imbalance. This is not level communication. If it's a technical interview, they have the answer for the problem they're asking you. They know the solution.
So the natural thing you should do to increase the chance of getting help is talk your steps out. Not because you need to prove yourself. Because the point is to solve the problem, and they have the answer, and when you walk through your thoughts there's an increased chance of being assisted.
It's the game.
The framework:
1. What game are you playing? Not what you think you're playing. What's actually happening. What determines success.
2. What does that game require? What's the homework? What agencies do you need?
3. Observe with your eyes. Listen with your ears. Not with your thoughts. Not with your plans. What's actually happening?
4. Note where you're coming short. Write it down. Track it. If something doesn't make sense, keep doing it and see the pattern.
5. Address the limitation. Not through discipline. Through understanding what's required and doing that.
Stop trying to force yourself. Start understanding what you're actually trying to do.
Everything should make sense. If you understand the game, the work makes sense. If the work doesn't make sense, you don't understand the game yet.
That's not a discipline problem. That's an understanding problem.
When you're in one of the three states - identifying desire, identifying homework, or practicing - you're moving. When you're not in any of these states, you're stuck.
When Life Throws You Off
Sometimes you wake up and don't know what's wrong. Something bothers you. You feel off.
And sometimes you don't even know what's bothering you. It's not a clear trigger. It's just this feeling. Unease. Restlessness. Like something's wrong but you can't name it.
The natural response: reach for comfort. Distraction. Validation. Anything that gives you immense dopamine. Anything to make the feeling go away.
This is seeking perfection in disguise.
Your mind gets attached to finding the perfect answer. The perfect action that will fix everything. The perfect insight that will make it all make sense.
But that's not how it works. That's not one of the three states. That's being stuck.
You don't need perfection. You need feedback.
The high agency move:
1. Stop. Acknowledge you're thrown off.
Don't spiral. Don't reach for comfort. Don't try to think your way out of it. Just acknowledge: I'm thrown off.
2. Try to identify what's bothering you.
Sometimes you can:
→ Someone has something you don't?
→ Failed at something?
→ Feel behind?
→ Don't know what to do next?
But sometimes you can't. Sometimes you're just not thinking sane. Your mind is in a weird state. That's okay.
3. Fall back to abstract, vibe-based thinking.
When you can't identify the exact problem, ask:
→ What does Alex want in abstract?
→ What would mediocre Alex do right now?
Not perfect Alex. Not heroic Alex. Mediocre Alex.
What would any average person in your position do to not fall behind?
→ If it's physical: Walk. Do one mile. Eat clean today.
→ If it's capability: Code one problem. Read one chapter. Ship one thing.
→ If it's social: Text one person. Show up to one thing.
4. Do that.
Don't try to solve everything. Don't try to understand everything. Just do the mediocre homework.
You're back in one of the three states. You're practicing. You're getting feedback from reality.
The comfort will come from doing the thing, not avoiding it.
Why this works:
When you're thrown off, you're not thinking clearly. You're in a weird state. Trying to find the perfect answer from that state is like trying to navigate with a broken compass.
You need to reset first. Get back to baseline. Do something you know is right even when you can't think straight.
That's what mediocre is for. It's the floor. The thing you do even when everything else is unclear.
Doing mediocre gets you back in the arena. Back in reality. Back where you can observe, get feedback, and adjust.
The clarity comes from doing, not from thinking.
When you're confused, don't do things radically away from what you know.
That's avoidance disguised as ambition. Your brain is reaching for the perfect answer because it's uncomfortable with not knowing.
But you don't need the perfect answer. You need to iterate for feedback.
Return to baseline. Do mediocre. Build from there.
Sometimes you don't even know what's bothering you. That's fine. Do mediocre anyway. The answer reveals itself through doing, not through seeking comfort.
Be playing in the arena. That's not discipline. That's just what you gotta do.