Several flights ago, the following notion occurred to me like a ringing bell:
“Some of my best thoughts are thrown up to me in the air, alone, but surrounded by people.”
I relish in the time I’m suspended mid-air, in my climate-controlled “pod”, where no alerts, pings, messages, emails, etc. can reach me (I intentionally don’t seek out in-flight internet access). So that I can see what else bubbles up. What thoughts, ideas, creative musings, emotions, feelings, “ah-has”, or even captured conversations with my seatmate arise.
I find it funny that as soon as I give my life space to breathe, a new “breath” of thoughts can come forward. It’s as if they were crowded out before. Pushed aside by the demands of daily life to conquer some other task that was subconsciously deemed more important.
It’s easy to lose track of ourselves and our creativity when we don’t give ourselves space to breathe. If we are constantly having to receive and process new “information” (i.e. - sights, sounds, smells, conversations, etc.) from a myriad of different devices and media, how are we supposed to expect those juicy ideas, deeper feelings, or soul-connecting moments to happen? Our busy daily lives often leave no room for our “ah-has” to fully express themselves. And if they do arise, our attention is often quickly diverted elsewhere.
Yes, brilliant ideas and big epiphanies can be forged in the fire of chaos as well. But most often, it is the sweeping lyrical movement into stillness, where all of our clear and coherent thoughts can settle. After we’ve danced through the chaos, where we’ve released all thoughts of “thoughts”, to yet again allow them to flow in.
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I’ve come to realize that I thrive on limitations.
The voided airplane.
The still meadow.
The places primarily unbothered by modernity.
The places and situations where I have limited access to the rest of the “world”, so I can sit with my inner world. And just notice what arises. What I feel compelled to do. To create. To think.
When I limit distractions, clear my schedule, turn off my phone, have nowhere to go or anyone to be…I can be with me.
Oftentimes when we hear the word “limitation” we assume something negative. Something that we are depriving ourselves of or is being deprived of us. Something we would rather have but are making do without.
All of the flashy sales signs have taught us to always favor “UNLIMITED” access over all else. Even if you don’t necessarily need all of the extended content they’re offering. Even if you would be just as content with the limited option.
Limitations imply an ultimate inconvenience.
And for many of us, myself included, our learned compulsion has grown in favor of convenience.
But there can be a beauty to having limitations.
And I’ve been learning to lean into them more and more lately.
To see them as rare gifts in my oftentimes “too busy” life.
To see them as guides into practicing the art of slow living and noticing what arises.
Limitations are kind of like creative boundaries that we can learn to play with, and they work in both directions.
Some days we are limited on time.
Some days space: stuck on a plane, train, bus, or car, unable to move around.
Some days sound: finding ourselves in a quiet environment.
Some days we have the limitation of nowhere to be and other days we are gifted the limitation of a busy schedule with only cracks of free time in between.
Some days we have limited resources to create with and other days we are gifted with the limitation of having unlimited options (if you know, you know).
Some days our verbal communication is limited, finding ourselves in a foreign place not speaking the native tongue.
Some days we find ourselves without access to the internet, our phones, a dishwasher, a laundry machine, a car…
While it is our natural tendency to seek out that “goldilocks” spot, so we can avoid feeling too limited in one direction or the other, always having exactly what we need at all times…there is a true beauty in learning to embrace your limitations.
To learn how to see them as gifts instead of curses.
Prompting us to slow down and be with what is, and what is not.
As I was musing about this topic…feeling in my bones all the gifts my limitations can (and have given to me)…I happened upon the most relatable quote in a book I’m reading by the brilliant photographer Jamie Beck:
“My creativity thrives on limitations, and all these conveniences we work so hard to obtain as symbols of progress and success were, for me, the death of personal satisfaction in life. These limitations birthed in me a new kind of freedom.”
The next time you notice a limitation in your life, see it not as something inhibiting you in some way, but as a chance to experience life in a new way. And, in turn, to experience freedom from our routine ways of thinking and being.