When a fly lands on your nose, your inclination is to swat at it. Shoo! Go away! There are several reasons not to do it.
For one, even though it only takes a second to wave, it might not be much longer before the fly sits in the same spot again. She can play this game for hours! Can you?
This leads to the second reason: You’re not in the business of fly-swatting. Whatever job you actually have in the moment, it’s much more important than squashing a pesky bug — especially one that means you no harm.
The third and final reason is that if your job happens to be driving a vehicle, working at height, or giving an all-important presentation, losing focus could be of lethal consequence — in two cases literally, in one metaphorically.
The fly can be a stand-in for any number of unexpected unpleasantries, but the point remains the same: It pays to stick with what matters, even when the going gets tough.
The best way to persevere in the face of detours and distractions, I think, is to practice acceptance rather than discipline. Let’s say you’ve decided to not swat the fly. Which of the following trains of thought will you choose?
The first is based on discipline. “It takes discipline to not wave at the fly,” you tell yourself. Then, you mentally try to summon that discipline, and it goes like this: “Don’t swat, don’t swat, don’t swat, don’t swat, don’t swat, don’t swat, don’t swat, don’t swaaaaaaat!!!” Even if your tactic is successful, it’ll also be stressful, and it’ll only be a matter of time before you fail to prevail.
The second train of thought is based on acceptance. “I find myself in a new situation,” you might say. “Let’s see what I can learn.” Instead of rattling off a performance mantra, you’re now free to greet the event — and start asking questions. “Hey there, buddy! How did you get in? Why aren’t you shy? What’s that sound you are making? Does my nose tickle your legs like your legs tickle my nose? Hey! Wait! Don’t go yet! I still have so many questions!” Before you knew it, you had a new friend — and the situation resolved itself.
In the first scenario, you’re trying to muscle through the distraction come hell or high water. But of course, one of the two always comes, and so muscling through rarely works.
In the second scenario, how much you indulge in the distraction is a function of how urgently your attention is needed, but in indulging it, if only for a moment, the distractive nature of the interruption fades away. When you’re driving, you might keep it at “Hey buddy!” When you’re idle, you might spend a minute interrogating your winged companion.
Whichever one you choose, you have now turned a diversion into part of the journey, and that’s a powerful way to control your reality. It removes friction, and without friction, objects move farther. Therefore, it is no overstatement to say, with acceptance, you’ll go a long way.
The funny thing with acceptance vs. discipline is that one is simply a grown-up version of the other. Discipline is forcing yourself. It’s the stubborn child, bent on having life go the way it demands. Acceptance is moving on. It’s a mature adult forgiving the universe, realizing bigger forces are at play.
Discipline says, “I will do this even though I don’t want to do it.” Acceptance says, “I will play my role in this situation, even if it takes a form I didn’t expect.”
When you’re running a marathon, discipline won’t keep your legs from giving out at mile 23. Acceptance, however, turns you into a winner even if you don’t cross the finish line — after all, your legs will have carried you far regardless.
When you have writer’s block, discipline leads to cramped lines and crumpled paper. Acceptance sets you free and allows you to play. Who knows where your dabbling might lead?
And when a fly lands on your nose? Then, too, acceptance is the way. Don’t force it. Be gentle. Life is a visit to the zoo — and those are more fun when you don’t shoo the animals away.