Growing up Asian, I know how it feels to be disciplined. From broomsticks to leather belts, to flying slippers and a dedicated spanking rod, I experienced them all hitting my buttocks whenever I did something wrong. But no matter how painful these "tools of discipline" are, nothing beats the pain of the actual palm of my parents hitting me whenever I have to face discipline. 

But whatever modern parenting says about the trauma these methods might bring, I am proud to say that I grew up better because of them. I know that because I was taught by my parents why punishments are necessary, and how it has to be done as a deterrent and as a gesture of love. I am disciplined because I am loved. Until now, it has an etch on my mind. 

Discipline can mean different things depending on who you ask. To a child, discipline means punishment, like when someone gets grounded and can't get his cellphone back until the lesson is learned.

To an athlete, discipline means rigid training, just like maintaining a lifestyle of hard work and sacrifice beyond what an average citizen has. 

To a scholar, perhaps it may connote an area of study, like the discipline of mindfulness, or the discipline of psychology, etc. A dedicated learning area or vocation, if I may say. 

But no matter what definition a discipline has, it all implies one thing - hardship. In fact, the Bible has something to say about it:

"For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." - Hebrews 12:11

We can deduce two things from this passage, but I would like to focus on discipline as a consequence. 

The Pain of Discipline

I agree that no discipline seems pleasant. I don't want to be punished for whatever wrong I have done. As much as I can, I want to get away from the consequences of my actions. Discipline means a blockage. It impedes me from doing the things that I want to do, even if such is helpful or right or moral. 

I remember having a fierce argument with my younger brother. In my anger and because I am already losing the argument, I hit him with a casserole that caused it to be deformed. We were both startled. First, because I am not the one who usually snaps in argument, and second because of the damage I have done to my mother's casserole. I know I was about to get scolded real bad. 

And I did receive what was due me. I was spanked, was scolded big time and I have to say sorry to my brother. It was both humiliating and humbling. It was painful but necessary. 

The Fruit of Discipline

But after much introspection on what happened back there, I realized that my parent's discipline made me aware that the next time I hit my brother, I will receive worse punishment than the first one. I don't want that. Discipline served as a deterrent. In the same way that law enforcement uses imprisonment and fines to discipline the citizenry, we too need to be disciplined so we will behave accordingly. 

Discipline gives us results if we learn our lesson. It exercises our thoughts to think hard of the consequences of our actions. We want to avoid being punished, so we behave until it becomes a lifestyle. It reinforces the good in us.

Going back to my anecdote, I have never hit my brother since then. We may still have arguments from time to time but we never get to the point of hurting each other physically. And I always remember what my parents told us that we should care for each other. 

If you have been trained by discipline by your parents, consider yourself blessed. It is a fruit! A majority of the vagrants and delinquents came from families that didn't show them any love, much more discipline. A tender, reasonable discipline is an act of love. It might hurt, but it is for the best. 

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Hi, I am Marts! Aside from read.cash, I also run my blog - martsvalenzuela.com. I plan on growing my readership while learning to improve my craft and journey towards my passion to write and publish books that add value to people.

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