Are Limitations a Blessing in Disguise?

A favorite childhood memory: My science teacher breaks us out into groups and gives us the assignment of making a human-sized boat that can carry one person across the school swimming pool. The materials available: newspaper and duct tape. Nothing else—no plastic, no screws, no inflatable rings, just newspaper and duct tape.

We laugh hysterically when one of my group members sinks as soon as our boat touches the water. And this happens for almost every boat, with some making it marginally further than the others. But one boat makes it across the pool and back several times before disintegrating (that team consisted of classmates who were later our high school valedictorian and salutatorian so, NOT FAIR).

Limitless. Be limitless. The glory of unlimited resources. This is what we all want, ache for, with entire self-help conferences built around that theme: limitless.

We tend to see our limitations as disadvantages. If only my church had more money, I often think, we could expand our programming, hire more musicians, update the sanctuary, and so on. Sigh, if only.

If only I had more time (a big one among parents of young children). If only I had more time, I’d write more, paint more, be more successful, be healthier.

If only my spouse were more ________, I’d be happier.

These limitations are the source of our disappointment and grief. They excuse us from pursuing the lives we truly desire.

But in the past few decades, with the growing number of possibilities at our fingertips, from the kind of peanut butter we can buy to where we can live, studies show that limitless possibilities don’t lead to greater happiness—they lead to paralysis.

In what area of your life do you bemoan the lack?

Where in your life are you prone to scarcity thinking?

For me, it’s with time, money, and, sometimes, with my husband. I’m madly in love with this man, but I can still find myself thinking, “If he wasn’t this or that, our lives would be better.”

And then I remember the boat project—the most fun school project I was ever assigned, a memory I share about over and over again whenever I get the chance: make a boat that can float across the swimming pool using just two materials: newspaper and duct tape. That’s it. Now, GO. And off we went, deliriously happy, electric with excitement, creativity buzzing off our fingertips.

Alright girl, you’re given this amount of time. Now GO, write a beautiful essay.

You’re given this amount of money. Now GO, decorate your home with style.

You have four ingredients. Now GO, make a yummy meal (side note, one of my go-to delicious and healthy recipes actually consists of just four ingredients: an onion, a cabbage, soy sauce, and rice. Five, if you’re counting the oil on the pan.).

You’re given this spouse with their particular mix of strengths and foibles. Now GO, make the most tender and fulfilling of marriages.

Readers, we aren’t given limitless resources—what a gift.

So on three: one, two, three…GO.