Yes, you read that right.
I’m asking you to be undisciplined.
For most of my life, I believed discipline was the key to every change I wanted to make.
Twenty times I tried to lose weight.
Thirty times I tried to quit smoking.
Hundreds of promises to myself that this time I’d stick to it.
None of them lasted.
And every time I failed, there was that same quiet voice in my head saying:
“Where you are today is not good enough.”
That’s the hidden problem with discipline as most people practise it. It’s not just about effort or consistency — it comes with an unspoken judgement.
It tells you that you need to fix yourself before you can respect yourself.
I’ve heard many respected teachers speak about the value of discipline.
B.K. Shivani of the Brahma Kumaris reminds us that a sattvic diet — free from onion and garlic — keeps the mind pure and focused.
Swami Vivekananda called discipline “the muscle of the mind” that grows with practice.
Even the Buddha spoke of balance — the Middle Path — where discipline is not punishment, but the steady effort that supports liberation.
These teachings aren’t wrong. But here’s the part I never understood until later: discipline without joy becomes resistance. Resistance breeds guilt. And guilt quietly kills momentum.
When I moved to Rishikesh, I started to notice it everywhere.
People would arrive after ten-day Vipassana courses, 200-hour yoga teacher trainings, or months of strict dietary regimens — and yet, many of them were exhausted. Not because the teachings were wrong, but because they were treating practices meant to bring freedom as mechanical checklists.
I realised I’d been doing the same. My health routines were joyless. I was dragging myself through them like they were a punishment.
So I stopped.
I didn’t stop caring about my health. I stopped starting from a place of force.
Instead, I began with what made me feel alive:
Walking in the forest, not for “cardio,” but for the smell of the earth after rain.
Yoga because I liked the teacher’s voice, not because my schedule said 6:00 AM.
Playing games with children, laughing until my sides hurt.
Eating food that felt light and happy, not because it was “allowed.”
Some would call this undisciplined. I call it aligned.
And here’s the paradox — the more I enjoyed these things, the more consistent I became. My energy returned. My chronic health issues began to fade. I moved more, ate better, and slept deeper — without the whip of “you must.”
I began to see discipline differently. When it’s forced, it’s like a dam — holding back life until the pressure breaks it. But when it grows from joy, it’s like a river — flowing naturally, drawing you back without effort.
At Aavya, this is exactly what we nurture. No military-style schedules. No guilt-trips. Just a space where you can explore movement, sound, nature, and art — until you find the practices that feel so good, you can’t help but return to them.
Because life is always a journey. There will always be expectations — we’re human, not monks. But your journey doesn’t have to begin with the belief that you are lacking.
Quitting discipline didn’t make me lose control.
It made me find my flow.