The Discipline of Doing Less

Sometimes, the hardest choice is not to push harder

Are you taking care of yourself?

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Welcome to Beyond Self Improvement issue #125. Every Wednesday, I share an essay with practical ideas on finding personal freedom in an unfree world.

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Dear Friend,

There was a time I did things only because I thought they were good for me.

Reading boring business books. Listening to classical music in the car because it made me feel “cultured.” Lifting weights in an airless gym on a beautiful summer day.

I felt a sense of accomplishment, but I didn’t feel alive. My whole attitude was all-or-nothing. If I couldn’t do something fully, I wouldn’t do it.

Take running, for example.

I would run shorter on weekdays and longer on Saturdays. If I couldn't run the usual distance on a particular day, I wouldn't run.

Why? Because in my mind, anything less didn’t “count.” And if it didn’t count, I wasn’t really a runner.

Of course, those distances were arbitrary. Some people run a marathon daily, while I ran 3–11 miles (4.8 - 17.7 km). Still, my ego turned it into a test of identity. I failed if I didn’t hit my goal, so why bother?

Years ago, I was sidelined by Achilles tendonitis and had to stop running. Recently, I’ve been easing back in, very gently. I walk to warm up, run around the block, and if I feel any discomfort in my heels whatsoever, I stop and walk the rest of the way home.

I told this to a friend who runs marathons. She laughed and said, “That’s a warmup, not a run.”

Years ago, that would have hurt. Back then, I didn’t know myself, was outer-directed, and forever trying to prove I was enough. Egged on by her words and laughter, I would have run through the pain instead of listening to my body and adjusting accordingly.

Now I know that my job isn’t to impress anyone. It’s to take care of myself.

If I missed a workout, I spiraled. I’d look in the mirror and catastrophize.

“Great, I'll never transcend my ectomorph genes. I’ll be stuck in this skinny body indefinitely.”

“No woman will ever find me attractive.”

“I’ll be single and lonely forever.”

I lived by comparison. If a successful founder got up at 5 AM, I had to. If Buffett reads 500 pages weekly, I’d better do the same to be like him. If Bill Gates could become a billionaire by the time he was 31, surely I could become a millionaire by 30. Instead of living, I was performing.

Enjoyment wasn’t the objective. Discipline was. I did things out of obligation, to feel good having done something. But eventually, I grew weary. I hadn’t felt joy or experienced spontaneous laughter in years. I was a machine grinding toward some imagined ideal.

Something had to give.

When I began turning inward, everything softened. I stopped beating myself up and using words like “should” and “have to.” I gave myself grace.

Some days I made 40 cold calls, other days 5, but I always made at least one to maintain momentum. Most days, I walk, bike, lift, and stretch. Some days I do two or three of those things. Sometimes, I rest.

I meditate daily, often in the middle of the night. But when I don’t feel like getting out of bed, I meditate later that day. Still, I miss a few meditations annually due to unusual circumstances like traveling. Keeping the long view keeps me from being hard on myself.

Consistency matters, but flexibility keeps me showing up. The trick is giving myself grace without giving in to sloth.

Some habits are non-negotiable, but most aren’t. The key is knowing the difference and being kind to yourself. As the saying goes, “We are human beings, not human doings.” Let your doing serve your being, not the other way around.

Whatever you choose, make how you treat yourself an expression of your intention: To be kind. To be graceful. To be human.

Keep living gracefully,

Ryan

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If you enjoyed this, sharing it with one person or restacking it would be the highest compliment. Thank you.

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Mona, a three-legged German Shepherd mix, and Wasabi, a Husky. They wrestled, and Mona held her own.