Galimgim

/11/ Discipline Over Delay

"No matter how busy you are, never skip your meals."

Christian lived by his words. He kept to his routine far better than I did. There were days I skipped meals, convinced that finishing tasks or squeezing in one more hour of studying was more important. I even used to believe that taking exams on an empty stomach made me sharper. But maybe that was why I sometimes struggled to truly comprehend my lessons.

That day, I closed my notes and followed him. To my surprise, he didn't lead me to the cafeteria. Instead, we went to our usual study spot. He pulled out a packed lunch I haven't even notice he was carrying.

"Now we can study better," he said, opening his notebook.

I was struck by how organized he was. His notes were neat and were carefully rewritten, while mine were rushed scribbles scattered across crumpled pages. Maybe I could ask him for help. But would that make me look incompetent?

The truth was, the problem wasn't him. It was me. He could guide me,  but staying consistent would always be my responsibility.

Still, I swallowed my pride and asked, "How do you manage to stay on track?"

He smiled. "You just need to keep going, Iris. Don't lose your momentum."

That stayed with me. I realized how often I promised myself I'd do something "tomorrow." But every tomorrow I delayed, the rhythm I worked hard to build slipped further away. 

We studied together. Whenever I stumbled on a concept, he explained it patiently--- walking me through equations, even breaking down the derivations. For the first time, studying felt less like a battle. With him, it wasn't impossible.

*

Midterms passed quickly. It felt surreal---only months ago I worried about whether I could even survive, and now here I was, fighting to keep up. 

In our Mathematics in the Modern World class, the professor asked us to form groups. Christian chose me, and Michael Jay joined us.

"I can do the research," I offered. "And maybe the PowerPoint, if no one wants to."

"I'll handle the slides," Christian said. "You and Michael Jay can focus on the research and mock presentation. You need to learn to delegate, Iris. Delegate or die."

He always had a way with words.

The day flew by with endless tasks. If Christian hadn't reminded me, I wouldn't have noticed it was already lunchtime.

"You know, your day shouldn't be all about responsibilities," he said. "Feed your mind, yes---but also your body. Prioritize what matters, but don't forget what keeps you grounded."

He was right. I had abandoned my reading habit, always telling myself I'd do it once I finished schoolwork. But the workload never ended.

So I picked up a book again---something on growth and listening. Somehow, it calmed me. His dedication inspired me, and I promised myself I'd read at least ten pages before studying each day. Growth, after all, was what truly mattered.

"To make studying easier," he once told me, "work with it."

I admired his discipline. I envied how gracefully he handled life---the very thing I often lacked.

*

"You know, I always try to wake up at four, but I always fail!"I confessed one afternoon.

I was venting again, and as always, he simply listened. That was his gift. He never judged, never interrupted. He waited until my words settled, until I saw my own mistakes. Only then did he speak. 

"Let's make a bet," he finally said. "If you wake up at four for six straight days, I'll give you five hundred pesos. But if you fail, you pay me."

I agreed. It wasn't just a bet---it was a challenge.

His words still echo in me: "You become what you say."

If you keep calling yourself weak, lazy, or worthless, you start believing it. That's why self-talk matters. And maybe for the first time, I chose to speak differently to myself. 

I won the bet. Not because I chased the reward, but because I learned discipline.

I refused take the money, of course. I never wanted it. 

But when I declined, he walked away.

Did I upset him?  Was he disappointed?

For the first time in a long while, I wondered if maybe. . . I wasn't really alone.