I think it’s totally possible to “follow my bliss” and be fulfilled.  

But first, I have to demonstrate the brutal/ruthless honesty required to know myself—to know what my “bliss” even is—by tracking the evidence/tendencies that reveal not just my shining glories, but also my darkest failings.  Then I have to demonstrate the discipline, creativity, and urgency to crush/circumvent/stifle the [inconveniences, bureaucracy/opposition/etc.] that keep me from hitting my target.  

If I do all that, then “following my bliss” is a piece of cake.

I believe a question that hurts ego but maintains accountability might go something along the lines of:  “Yeah, it’s cool that you were a [military/spiritual/artist/author/businessperson/quirky/quarterback/prom king or queen/etc.]…but what are you doing to improve yourself TODAY?  And then tomorrow?  And the day after that?”  

That question keeps us from hiding behind labels, and forces us to hold ourselves accountable for the time we have left.

I enjoy that rush of agreement when I’m in a group and we’re all talking about making this or that, but I’ve been let down by enough empty vows to realize that projects don’t manifest in the exciting glow of strongly worded affirmations. 

No, I think a good chunk of projects are completed when there’s no one around—in the predawn dark or late at night, when society beckons with its banal comforts, but the creator exercises unwavering discipline.

Comfort is glorious—I regularly indulge in it—but I take care to resist its siren’s song by balancing it with discipline, for I am wretched and miserable when caught in the throes of comfort.

Tradition/ritual/etiquette/etc are all important; they provide stability, as well as an idea of where to go.  But at a certain point they can easily poison us, co-opting our critical thinking/assessment with empty platitudes and the desire for the familiar.  They can shackle us to a stale beginning, preventing us from ever finishing and moving into a FRESH beginning.

To navigate these uncertain waters, I focus on effective strategy bounded by my personal ethics, which I assess and reinforce by examining myself in the harshest light I can muster.

If I flake, I try and make sure it’s for a real reason and not from some craving or whim I’ve disguised as a nebulous rationalization.  Because if I flake for a BS reason, I’ve disrespected that ancient part of myself that KNOWS what’s right, that KNOWS I should be disciplined, clear-minded, and steadfast.  I like to keep that part of myself strong and healthy.  Disrespect weakens it.  Disrespect relegates that part to the back corners of my soul, where it turns into a nagging voice, and eventually into a pervasive guilt that lets me know I could be somewhere more desirable, if I’d only stepped up and exercised discipline.

I aspire to avoid joining the ranks of the beaten and dull, those whose fire has been extinguished by a continual inability to rise to the occasion or match words with action.  When I was younger I believed that enthusiasm and platitudes would propel me to victory.  But now I see that it is discipline that is the primary weapon which makes victory possible—the discipline to continually examine the evidence and ensure my beliefs/methods are as best as I can make them.  The discipline to wake up before the sun, and toil in the dark as the light dawns.  The discipline to take advantage of what little time I have left.  

To me it is a simple choice; the alternative to a discipline-rich lifestyle is simply unthinkable.