I call the process I just described self-discipline. I define self-discipline as a mental technique to redirect (as best we can) our focus of attention to the object of our goal or desire, when that goal or desire conflicts with some other component (belief) of our mental environment. The first thing you should notice about this definition is that self-discipline is a technique to create a new mental framework. It is not a personality trait; people aren't born with self-discipline. In fact, when you consider how I define it, being born with discipline isn't even possible. However, as a technique to be used in the process of personal transformation, anybody can choose to use self-discipline. Here is an example from my life that illustrates the underlying dynamics of how this technique works. In 1978 I decided that I wanted to become a runner.

I don't exactly remember what my underlying motivation was, except that I had spent the previous eight years in a very inactive life style. I wasn't involved with any sports or hobbies, unless you call watching television a hobby. Previously in both high school and at least part of college I was very active in sports, especially ice hockey. However, coming out of college, my life was unfolding in the way that was very different from what I had expected. It was not to my liking, but at the time I felt powerless to do anything about it. This led to a period of inactivity, which is a nice way of saying that I was severely depressed. Again, I'm not sure what prompted me to suddenly want to become a runner (maybe I saw some TV program that sparked my interest).

I do, however, remember that the motivation was verv strong. So, I went out and bought myself some running shoes, put them on, and went out to run. The first thing I discovered was that I couldn't do it. I didn't have the physical stamina to run more than fifty or sixty yards. This was very surprising. I didn't realize, nor would I have ever believed, that I was so out of shape that I couldn't run even a hundred yards. This realization was so disheartening that I didn't attempt to run again for two or three weeks.

The next time out, I still couldn't run more than fifty or sixty yards. I tried again the next day with, of course, the same result.

I became so discouraged about my deteriorated physical condition that I didn't run again for another four months. Now, it's the spring of 1979. I'm once again determined to become a runner, but, at the same time, very frustrated with my lack of progress. As I was contemplating my dilemma, it occurred to me that one of my problems was that I didn't have a goal to work towards. Saying that I wanted to be a runner was great, but what did that mean? I really didn't know; it was too vague and abstract. I had to have something more tangible to work towards.

So I decided that I wanted to be able to run five miles by the end of the summer. Five miles seemed insurmountable at the time, but thinking that I might be able to do it generated a lot of enthusiasm. This

increased level of enthusiasm gave me enough impetus to run four times that week. At the end of this first week, I was really surprised to discover even a little bit of exercise improved my stamina and ability to run a little farther each time. This created even more enthusiasm, so I went out and bought a stop watch and blank book to be used as a running diary. I set up a two-mile course, and marked off each quarter mile. In the diary I entered the date, my distance, my time, and how I felt physically each time I ran. Now I thought I was well on my way to the five miles, until I literally ran into my next set of problems.

The biggest were the conflicting and distracting thoughts that flooded my consciousness every time I decided I wanted to go out and run. I was amazed at the number (and intensity) of the reasons I found for not doing it: "It's hot [or] cold outside," "It looks like it's going to rain," "I'm still a little tired from the last time I ran (even though it was three days ago)," "Nobody else I know is doing this," or the most prevalent, "I'll go as soon as this TV program is over" (of course I never went). I didn't know any other way to deal with this conflicting mental energy except to redirect my conscious attention on what I was trying to accomplish. I really wanted to get to five miles by the end of the summer. I found that sometimes my desire was stronger than the conflict. As a result, I managed to get my running shoes on, actually step outside, and start running. However, more times than not, my conflicting and distracting thoughts caused me to stay put. In fact, in the beginning stages, I estimate that two-thirds of the time I was unable to get past the conflicting energy.

The next problem I encountered was that when I started approaching the point where I was able to run one mile, I was so thrilled with myself that it occurred to me I was going to need an additional mechanism to get me to the five miles. I reasoned that once I got to the point where I could run two or maybe three miles, I would be so overwhelmingly pleased with myself that I wouldn't feel any need to fulfill my five-mile objective. So I made a rule for myself. You could call it the five-mile rule. "If I managed to get my running shoes on and get outside in spite of all the conflicting thoughts trying to talk me out of it, I committed myself to running at least one step farther than the last time I ran." It was

certainly all right if I ran more than one step further, but it couldn't be less than one step, no matter what. As it turns out, I never broke this rule, and by the end of the summer, I made it to five miles.

But then, something really interesting and completely unanticipated happened before I got there. As I got closer to fulfilling my five-mile objective, little by little, the conflicting thoughts began to dissipate. Eventually they didn't exist at all. At that point, I found that if I wanted to run, I was completely free to do so without any mental resistance, conflict, or competing thoughts. Given what a struggle it had been, I was amazed (to say the least). The result: I went on to run on a very regular basis for the next 16 years. For those of you who may be interested, I don't run so much now because five years ago I decided to start playing ice hockey again.

Hockey is an extremely strenuous sport. Sometimes I play as many as four times a week. Considering my age (over u\j) and the level of exertion the sport requires, it usually takes me a day or two to

recover, which doesn't leave much room for running any more. Now, if you take these experiences and put them into the context of what we now understand about the nature of beliefs, there are a number of observations we can make:

1. Initially, my desire to be a runner had no foundation of support in my mental system. In other words, there was no other source of energy (an energized concept demanding expression) consistent with my desire.

2. I actually had to do something to create that support. To create a belief that "I am a runner" required that I create a series of experiences consistent with the new belief. Remember that everything we think, say, or do contributes energy to some belief in our mental system. Each time I experienced a conflicting thought and was able to successfully refocus on my objective, with enough conviction to get me into my running shoes and out the door, I added energy to the belief that "I am a runner." And, just as important, I inadvertently drew energy away from all of the beliefs that would argue otherwise. I say inadvertently because there are various techniques specifically designed to identify and de-activate conflicting beliefs, but at that time in my life, I didn't understand the underlying dynamics of the process of transformation I was going through. So, it wouldn't have occurred to me to avail myself of such techniques.

3. Now I can effortlessly (from a mental perspective) express myself as a runner, because "I am a runner." That energized concept is now a functioning part of my identity. When I first started out, I happened to have a number of conflicting beliefs about running. As a result, I needed the technique of self-discipline to bfCCITic One. Now I don't need self-discipline because "bHn" a. rj^iicr" 'c "who I L ~o am." When our bfeliers are completely aligned with our goals or desires, there's no source of conflicting energy. If there's no source of conflicting energy, then there's no source of distracting thoughts, excuses, rationalizations, justifications, or mistakes (conscious or subconscious). 4. Beliefs can be changed, and if it's possible to change one belief, then it's possible to change any belief, if you understand that you really aren't changing them, but are only transferring energy from one concept to another. (The form of the belief targeted for change remains intact.) Therefore, two completely contradictory beliefs can exist in your mental system, side by side. But if you've drawn the

energy out of one belief and completely energized the other, no contradiction exists from a functional perspective; only the belief that the energy will have the capacity to act as a force on your state of mind, on your perception and interpretation of information, and your behavior. Now, the sole purpose of trading mechanically is to transform yourself into a consistently successful trader. If there's anything in your mental environment that's in conflict with the principles of creating the belief that "I am a consistently successful trader," then you will need to employ the technique of self-discipline to integrate these principles as a dominant, functioning part of your identity. Once the principles become "who you are," you will no longer need self-discipline, because the process of "being consistent" will become effortless. Remember that consistency is not the same as the ability to put on a winning trade, or even a string of winning trades for that matter, because putting on a winning trade requires absolutely no skill. All you have to do is guess correctly, which is no different than guessing the outcome of a coin toss, whereas consistency is a state of mind that, once achieved, won't allow you to "be" any other way. You won't have to try to be consistent because it will be a natural function of your identity. In fact, if you have to try, it's an indication that you haven't completely integrated the principles of consistent success as dominant, unconflicted beliefs. For example, predefining your risk is a step in the process of "being consistent." If it takes any special effort to predefine your risk, if you have to consciously remind yourself to do it, if you experience any conflicting thoughts (in essence, trying to talk you out of doing it), or if you find yourself in a trade where you haven't predefined your risk, then this principle is not a dominant, functioning part of your identity. It isn't "who you are." If it were, it wouldn't even occur to you not to predefine your risk. If and when all of the sources of conflict have been de-activated, there's no longer a potential for you to "be" any other way. What was once a struggle will become virtually effortless. At that point, it may seem to other people that you are so disciplined (because you can do something they find difficult, if not impossible), but the reality is that you aren't being disciplined at all; you are simply functioning from a different set of beliefs that compel you to behave in a way that is consistent with your desires, goals, or objectives.