LIMITED PERSPECTIVES
Exploring the role of limits within the context of a limited life.
Written by Shanita Lyn. Images via Unsplash.
I have two opinions on limits.
Perhaps the first could be considered more of a knee-jerk reaction than an opinion. You see, the word "limit" tends to create a feeling of resistance in me, an instinct to rebel against imposed restrictions. I suppose it's part of my nature — I've always loved challenging expectations (much to the chagrin of my more conservative relatives, peers and teachers).
In many ways this attitude has served me well. It takes a little rebelliousness to be truly authentic in a world which expects just a version of you. To live to your fullest capacity, you have to question and push your personal limits at every step of the way. Why can't I be a straight-A student and decide to pursue art? Why can't I wear men's clothes if I like the way they look on me? Why can't I earn a good living doing what I'm most passionate about?
The tricky thing about personal limits in particular is that they so often come wrapped up in good intentions, and our own sense of responsibility. In fact, some of the most confining limitations are the ones that we place on ourselves because we don’t want to let others down. Or because we don’t want to upset others’ opinions of us, or invite unsolicited comments, or rock the boat in any way. It would be far easier to shake certain shackles off if we didn't have anything invested in them. I’ve fallen prey to guilt plenty of times — I've questioned whether I should just “do the responsible thing” and get a practical degree, land a 9-5 job and build a stable life on a steady income. I’ve been a victim of the doubt, fear and frustration that comes with it. And I’ve blamed the resulting unhappiness on everything from lack of money to lack of experience. More than once, I've made decisions about my own life that prioritised others' opinions at the expense of my own.
But we must remember that we have a responsibility — to ourselves, to the people around us, to the world — to be true to who we are, and to share the gifts we’ve been given. As I get older, I'm finding it more and more difficult to lie to myself. I know now that doing something that isn’t true to who I am would eventually drive me insane, and as time passes I’m getting better at recognising what feels right and what doesn’t. This also means that limits have become a lot easier to identify and deal with — if I’m not waking up excited and going to bed satisfied every day, I know that I’m not living at full capacity, and can adjust the sails accordingly.
On the flipside, I do have a lot of value for limits that are used constructively. I've noticed that consciously putting limits on certain things makes me appreciate them more, so I've started using this to my advantage. For example, by limiting my sugar consumption to only one sweet treat a day, I find so much more enjoyment in it than I did when I was having dessert twice a day and putting sugar in my coffee. By limiting my time on social media, I'm much more intentional in curating what I want to see on my feed, which in turn benefits my overall mental health. By limiting how many hours in a day I spend working, I make sure those hours are used as effectively as possible, and am left with enough free time to spend with loved ones and on hobbies. I experiment with placing limits on what material or technique to use in an art piece, how many words I use to express an idea in an article, how much exercise I do in a day… the possibilities are, paradoxically enough, unlimited.
Putting a limit on something forces you to be more present with it. It’s harder to take something for granted when it’s not readily accessible to you, like time. You’re less likely to get carried away when you’re clear about how much you really need, like food. There’s more room for creativity when you’re not overwhelmed by possibilities, like art supplies. Limits, when used intentionally, can be incredible tools for learning, sharpening your focus and immersing yourself in the moment.
There is one limit in particular that I think we could all be more conscious of, and that is the limit we have on our time here.
Each of us came into the world with an expiration date. None of us knows for sure when ours will come, but the fact remains — one day, you and I will cease to exist. And it’s a blessing, I think, not knowing whether that day is tomorrow or eighty years from now. Because it gives us more incentive to live every day like it’s our last.
I know that's easier said than done, of course. It’s all too easy to forget, in the rhythm and chaos of our everyday lives, that our time here is in fact temporary and brief. But every now and then death confronts us a little more starkly to remind us of our own mortality — through illness, accidents, close calls, natural disasters, the passing of a loved one or even a global pandemic. Again, paradoxically, it seems to be in those moments that we are most acutely aware of how alive we are — or how alive we could be, but aren’t choosing to be. If we can consciously make that awareness a way of life, perhaps we'll be less likely to get worked up over petty things, more compassionate towards each other, more willing to forgive our individual shortcomings. By being more aware of how little time we actually have, perhaps we can choose to spend it on the things that matter most.
In that sense, I really don’t have two opinions on limits after all. Because what it all comes down to is living as fully, as vibrantly as possible.
You have a certain amount of time here, and you can do absolutely anything you want with it. If you’re old enough to be reading this article, it’s safe to say some years of that time have already passed. Are you happy with how you spent them? Will you be happy to spend the years ahead the same way?
Ask yourself every day how you can live more deeply, more meaningfully, more authentically, more fulfillingly. Treat each day as a life within a life. Instead of allowing limits to hold you back, use them to explore your unlimited potential. Use them to help you prioritise what matters most. And then dive into that, into whatever it is that makes you glad to be alive, and don’t hold back. That, to me, is being limitless.
