I like strong black coffee, preferably Columbian with a bold flavor. I drink it all day. I sometimes brew cups at 9am when I awake, 11am when my son goes down for a nap, 3pm when he goes down for a second nap and 5pm to ward off the evening blues.
I know, too much coffee.
And the truth is that I’m chasing the experience of the first cup of coffee with each subsequent cup.
Cause that poor second, third, fourth and even fifth cup (some days) are just never as good as the first, no matter how hard they try.
Some days I wonder why I even waste the beans on the subsequent cups. Wait, who am I kidding? We all know that even sub par coffee is better than no coffee. Especially to new mothers.
But there’s a lesson here.
I’m continually trying to recreate the aromatic, sigh-worthy, delightful experience of the first cup of coffee each day throughout the whole day. And I fail. Every, darn day. NO cup is better than the first.
And some might argue the more coffee I drink throughout the day that’s mediocre the more I’m ruining the wonderful experience of the first cup. Because if I get just one cup, then I’m surely going to appreciate it that much more.
And the days that I stop drinking coffee before noon, are followed by mornings with first cups that are more delicious. Because I’ve waited longer for it. The anticipation built.
In today’s world, we often get what we want when we want it as much as we want. There’s no restraint or self control. Because there’s no need, right?
And this boils down to a really nasty word. It’s so hard for me to type. Deep breath, here goes…
Discipline.
Ouch. That one hurt. I think I threw up in my mouth a little bit.
Hate it. Underline hate. NOT A FAN. See, my visceral self believes that discipline is for losers, lame people, boring people and type triple A crazies.
But, it’s not.
It’s for me.
And it’s for my own good.
I know that if I stop the coffee early I get rewarded with a better first cup the next day. I know that if I limit the amount of baked goods I eat in a week the sweeter they are when I get to eat them.
I know that if I save my money to buy something, the more I’ll appreciate it. And I know that if I exercise regularly, my body will be stronger.
And another one that’s hard for me—the more time I spend in reading the Bible, praying and seeking God, the better my relationships with him will be.
It honestly took me 26 years or so to understand this.
Cause when I was a child things were easier, it didn’t need the discipline to succeed. I could ace a test with a little studying, eat what I wanted, run on fumes with little to no sleep and not much time spent in prayer and feel like things were pretty A-ok.
Not anymore.
Ain’t adulthood a slap in the face.
But let me use another word—one not so nasty as the previous one.
Refinement.
It’s the process of improving or perfecting something by polishing or pruning. The more I discipline myself, the more I’m refined. And believe you me, I’m glad I didn’t stay an unbridled child forever.
I’m a Mom now and the stakes are higher. This discipline business is much more important now than it’s ever been in my life. I not only have to discipline myself but now I’m responsible for disciplining a child.
It’s easy to understand that he can’t eat whatever he wants, stay up as late as he wants or watch whatever he wants. Then he won’t be healthy and he won’t grow up to be a refined adult.
Basically, discipline leads to refinement which leads to a much healthier person who can then in turn help raise other disciplined, refined and healthy human beings. See the importance?
Whew, ok, enough about discipline. Eek, even talking about it makes my palms sweat. Not an especially fun topic. I think I deserve another cup of coffee after that one…kidding.
