A slave to discipline

Having been on the computer and effectively "killing hours" this morning, it is a bit ironic I even attempt to bring up the topic of "discipline". Forgive me, I have given it a lot of thought. . .
So... what if I am not making "great art"? Does that really matter as much as I think? Is the product the validation? Or is it the process? I love the discipline of doing it every day (or trying to). I love setting myself deadlines and routines. Last July I wrote everyday on a book idea and it was bliss! The fact that the book has sat in a box untouched or edited since August doesn't bother me. I really like checking into my blog everyday... picking a topic and writing even a few sentences on it feels good. It marks time. It puts out there what is in there; in my own head.
I have other routines as well... for years I have tried to write 8-10 letters a week, meditate 10-20 minutes a day, do yoga and take walks, read 2 books a month, sit still in the evenings, pray morning noon and night, and pay attention to Michael daily.
I have a deep down fear that I am, at my core, truly lazy... that I could lay about, eat potato chips, get massages and pedicures and be waited upon non-stop without a qualm. I could forget about everything miraculous and marvelous with the world.

So I am going to try again, full moon to full moon, the daily painting discipline. Starting today!

The above is a class demo- a fresco, painted on panel. At one point the plaster dried too fast and I had to chisel it off and add a fresh coat so the surface is a bit uneven. I have a total appreciation for the master artists who came before... the discipline they must have had!