Intention is a beautiful thing. It’s hopeful, future-facing and full of promise. But intention on its own? She’s a bit of a dreamer. She needs discipline as her steady, grounded partner if anything is actually going to happen.
This realisation landed with a gentle thud for me recently, on what was supposed to be a very well-structured workday. I’d got up early – intentionally. Early mornings are a discipline I’ve worked hard to cultivate because I know they serve me. From 7-10am I protect a three-hour window for admin, research or study, complete with stretch breaks, hydration, fresh air and the holy grail that is Pomodoro. After that comes my ‘practical’ window: clients, meetings, the human-facing stuff. The gym is always non-negotiable too – another discipline that pays me back tenfold in mood, focus and yes… serotonin and dopamine, thank you very much.
But this particular morning
I woke way before my 6am alarm. Now, here’s the spanner in the works: waking early wasn’t part of the plan. And unstructured time? That’s historically been challenging for my neurodivergent brain. A totally free day can send me into a mild panic. But this morning felt calm, spacious and productive.
I fed the dogs and made coffee. Stepped outside with it – even though it was still dark – to catch that first light (a habit I’ve intentionally built to support my circadian rhythm). I made breakfast, tidied the kitchen and, because I’d come through a few highly stressful weeks, I decided to indulge in a bath to soothe my nervous system. Because I had the time for it. Gold star behaviour so far.
I chose a guided meditation. I set a timer – another habit I’ve learned the hard way is essential if I don’t want to lose hours to warm water and daydreams. I noticed I had a whole 27 minutes available. And this is where intention quietly slipped out of the room. Phone in hand, meditation ready to play, I spotted an article. Just a quick read, I told myself.
Reader, it was not a quick read. Down the rabbit hole I went, distracted by facts, evidence, related topics, ideas, inspiration. STOP. I still hadn’t meditated. “No problem,” I reassured myself. “I’ll find a shorter one.” Seven minutes. Perfect. Except… I now had 23 seconds left on the timer. And there it was. The moment of clarity, and annoyance. But also, if I’m honest, self-compassion.
Intention without discipline is vulnerable
Here’s the bottom line: if you set an intention, you have to protect it. Discipline isn’t about rigidity or punishment, it’s about boundaries. Deciding in advance what gets your attention – and what doesn’t – in the moments when your brain is most likely to wander off chasing novelty.
Psychologically speaking, this makes sense. Our brains are wired to seek dopamine, and phones are basically slot machines in our pockets. Research consistently shows that even brief interruptions can significantly reduce focus and increase cognitive load. Every ‘quick check’ comes with a hidden cost.
And for neurodivergent brains, that pull can be even stronger. Curiosity, pattern-seeking, hyperfocus – these are strengths, but without structure they can hijack our best intentions in seconds.
Habit stacking helps… until it doesn’t
I’m a big fan of habit stacking – anchoring a new habit onto an existing one so it becomes almost automatic. My morning routines, first light exposure, gym habit, timers in the bath – these didn’t appear by accident. They’re layered, intentional behaviours built over time.
But habit stacking still requires presence. When intention meets distraction, discipline is what brings us back.
Mindset, compassion and the role of coaching
This is where mindset really matters. Old me would have spiralled into self-criticism:
Why can’t you just do the thing? You literally coach people on this.
Newer me paused and noticed instead. I reminded myself:
- My brain can be retrained
- Discipline is a practice, not a personality trait
- Awareness is progress, even when the outcome isn’t perfect
Coaching – whether you’re receiving it or offering it – isn’t about being flawless. It’s about learning to observe your patterns without shame and gently changing course. And yes, even as a coach, I still sabotage my own intentions sometimes.
The takeaway (and a gentle nudge)
If this resonates, please don’t beat yourself up. Just keep noticing. Sometimes you’ll meet your intention with discipline and it will feel (chef’s kiss) satisfying. Sometimes you’ll end up with 23 seconds and a half-read article. Both moments have something to teach you.
The more you practice protecting your intentions – especially from phones, distractions and ‘just a minute’ moments – the easier it becomes. Discipline grows quietly, through repetition, compassion and consistency. Intention sets the direction and discipline gets you there.
And tomorrow? You can simply try again.