Discipline

Back when I used to live in Hawaii, I used to date a very wealthy guy from time to time who liked to spend his leisure time on the Island. He enjoyed vacationing because it gave him a chance to flaunt his wealth in a way that would have been inappropriate at home. When I say he liked to flaunt, I mean really really flaunt. He would take his jewels out of the safe, and pull out the American Express and put it to good use. During these visits he would often rent those exotic cars usually reserved for Japanese Business men who thought of Hawaii as their personal play ground.

One of his favorite moves would be to sneak into town, pick up a Maserati, Ferrari, or Lamborghini, pull up onto the side walk of the club I was more often than not found at, he'd scream to the doorman to tell someone to let me know my chariot was awaiting me, and we'd burn rubber in the streets and take a lap or two around the island. He was a complicated business man for the most part, but when we were together we had a very special friendship.

Over the years we became each other's confidants, less dating and more quality time together, times that we knew we could bend each other's ear, and since we didn't live on the same Continent our secrets were safe with each other. Eventually I started dating someone else, whom I eventually fell deeply in love with, although in my waking hours my relationship gave me as many headaches as it did butterflies in my stomach...Oh to be in my early twenties again.

I would call my dear friend, Mr Frequent Flier Miles, and complain about the mess my life was, and his first question would always be, "Where is your discipline?"

Discipline was something he lived by. He was the man who would literally take 30 to 45 minutes to fold his clothes, remove his jewelry and fold his silk socks before going to bed. That's really why we couldn't really date each other, I'd be in deep sleep by then. He was the type of dude that wanted to give me a lecture on how to properly get the toothpaste of out the tube...I simply asked him to purchase me my own toothpaste inside of furthering the conversation. He was that dude that took his jeans to the cleaners and couldn't wear not one pair twice before they were recleaned. Come to think of it he was probably OCD but all of that to say he was damn near a multi millionaire before the age of thirty and he did by working hard when it was work time and playing hard when it was play time. All things had their proper place in life.

It's years since I've seen Mr Frequent Flier Miles, but his words will always ring true for me. When I see my life getting out of control, when my housekeeper hasn't been here in weeks and I really feel like going out, I ask myself "Where is my discipline?" When I crave something I don't need, am tempted by something I've already had, it's always that same question.

I'm not feeling very disciplined right now, but with maturity I have learned how to do what needs to be done in order to enjoy the fruits of my labor. I'm more in the mood for a ride in a fast car, with the top down and not a care in the world. I suppose that's what I'm working for these days...that right there.