While standing next to an exhibit wall with hundreds of small photos, my friend stated, "Look at this exhibit. This artist spent a lot of time picking every frame, image, matt, putting them all together. Hours and hours of arrangement laying it all out, gluing, ladder climbing, hanging, lighting and on and on. Creativity takes work, a lot of work."

At first I was surprised by this comment coming from him. Not that I doubted the validity of his statement, but given the spectrum of his work I guess I was anticipating something very deep. Yet, upon reflection, as so often happens with our conversations, the depth of clarity became crystal clear.

I asked him to elaborate on how he internalizes discipline with his own creative process. He responded that to him it was all numbers. "I set goals and get to work. After I've knocked out the set amount of works I prescribed, I sit back and look at what is good, what works, what needs massaging, editing and so on."

"My mother made me practice two hours a day," stated a world renown concert violinist during a Charlie Rose interview, thus reaffirming the overused expression, "Practice makes perfect."

This musician went on to describe how after years of this disciplined practice, he began to resent it and almost quit. "It wasn't until much later in life that I learned how to serve music," he confided.

Disciplined, laborious work, under the umbrella of service is what I suspect gives most great creative people the will to power on. This first hit home with the age-old story about two stone masons being interviewed about their work on a cathedral. One reported that he was a stone mason working a gig, while the other attributed his efforts to laying an honorable temple foundation worthy of God. Thus one mason viewed his work as work, while the other had a mission to serve.

Great cooks want to delight the palettes of many. Painters desire to show their works in galleries. Musicians desire audiences. Writers want to be read. Creatives seek outlets of appreciation because they are moved to share. Whether their modes be to influence, inspire, or shock, the need to connect is really a form of service. And it is in this service that makes the disciplined labors worthwhile.

Yet discipline is not just a physical toiling, it is also mental, especially with respect to strategic implementation among teams.

For instance, the day after a competitor received trade press, I watched a brand manager do a complete 180, with a look-alike, me-too, strategy, because this competitor had been her former boss.

There was another time when I saw a whole team emotionally melt in a panic when one of their team members burst into the meeting with a newspaper article featuring a competitor's maneuvers.

Chasing and reacting are not platforms for crafting strategies. They are mostly formulas for a losing battle. But with smart planning, we can outflank. Yet, it takes disciplined courage to hold the mental course.

Madison Avenue guru Bill Backer has a brilliant book, The Care and Feeding of Ideas. It illustrates, perhaps better than anyone, how gravity in corporate teams can water down the creative process, if not outright kill creative strategies.

So perhaps discipline is really about doing what it takes to get the job done well. And Creative discipline is really about investing oneself in the effort so that when presented it is received by others.

Either way, like my friend said, it is a pain. But it's worth it.   top