I’m an avid coffee drinker, but sometimes I enjoy a good cup of tea. Sometimes my cup of tea has a little quote for me. Sometimes that quote is amazing.
Sometimes.
Yesterday was one of the sometimes that I chose to drink a cup of tea. And one of the sometimes that my tea had a quote for me. It read:
“You are unlimited.”
Normally, I would’ve shrugged my shoulders and moved on. But yesterday wasn’t a normal day; it was Ash Wednesday.
For those unfamiliar, Ash Wednesday is the first day of the Lenten season. The 40 days (not including Sundays) of fasting leading up to Easter Sunday. It is traditionally marked with a morning service where the pastor or priest marks congregants’ foreheads with ashes made from last year’s Palm Sunday palm branches. While imposing the ashes (as it’s called), the pastor says,
“Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
Because of the day, my teabag gave me pause. I was struck by the contrast between these two ideas. My tea was telling me I’m unlimited; my tradition, reminding me I’m dust.
Which was right?
The title of this piece probably tips my hand, but I’m inclined to agree with my tradition. As humans we’re not unlimited, and that’s a good thing. Not only that, but pretending otherwise can do us a great deal of harm.
You’re Not Unlimited
Let’s begin with the obvious: we all have limits. As inspiring as my teabag may sound, the statement is obviously a false one. There are certain constraints that are constant to all human beings:
Everyone gets 24 hours each day
Everyone has a body
Everyone needs to eat
Everyone needs to sleep
These constraints limit us in very real ways. We have to make choices about what we will do with our hours, our bodies, our meals, and yes, even our time on the toilet.
The choices we make with our shared constraints then constrain us further. Each decision we make, to some degree, creates and precludes other options.
Right now, I’m choosing to write down these thoughts, and you’re choosing to read them. Each of those decisions constrains each of us in particular ways. I cannot do other things while writing this, not if I want to write it well. And you cannot do other things while reading it, not if you want to read it well.
So we’re limited by universal human constraints. And we’re constrained by the choices we make. However, we’re also constrained by things not of our choosing, that are very particular to us. We’re constrained by where, when, and to whom we were born. By where we live and where we grew up. By global and national trends beyond any one person’s control.
You are not unlimited.
And That’s a Good Thing
The fact of our limited-ness isn’t a hard sell. Most of us realize that we do, indeed, have limitations. However, for most of us, we probably view our constraints more with frustration, anger, and disappointment. If so, I’ll probably have to convince you that our limits are a good thing.
The Paradox of Choice
Psychologist Barry Schwartz published his book The Paradox of Choice: Why More is Less in 2004. In it he argues that an abundance of choice actually leads to less subjective wellbeing rather than more. In other words, while we assume that unlimited choice leads to greater happiness, it seems the opposite is true.
In the context of life-constraints such as we’ve been discussing so far, it’s not difficult to see how that plays out.
Imagine the perennial question every high school senior dreads: “What are you going to do with your life?” Setting aside the fact that it’s an overbroad question to begin with, it becomes pretty easy to see how unlimited choices only adds additional stress to the process of finding an answer. If every possible answer is equally realistic (because I am unlimited), then every possible answer must be given equal weight in making the decision. I could equally become a Major-league Pitcher, an Oceanographer, a Professional Musician, and an Elementary School Teacher. Not to mention every other possible unnamed career.
The sheer number of possibilities makes the question oppressively unanswerable.
However, if I acknowledge my limits I can narrow the field considerably. Let’s return to our examples above. I’m a high school student making career plans, and I’m weighing those same four career paths. Because I’ve never touched an instrument in my life, and haven’t played baseball since the ball was on a tee, I can safely and easily eliminate those two options. They’re not real options because of the constraints created by my earlier choices. If I’m now only weighing “Teacher vs. Oceanographer” it makes my decision much less stressful, especially because the next step for both those career paths is the same: go to college.
Embracing our limits allows us to simplify our decision making by providing a means for doing so; simply eliminate choices that are precluded by your constraints.
My wife and I have a series of constraints for choosing our next vehicle. We’ll have a limited budget because we won’t carry a car payment. We’ll buy a minivan (because they rock) because we have three children. We’ll buy something that a local dealer we trust has in stock. Because of those constraints, I don’t have to spend any time online designing my custom brand-new Tesla Model X. It doesn’t fit our self-imposed constraints, so I don’t have to waste any time fretting over whether or not to pick the “Plaid” version.
Constraints, when embraced, can provide simplicity. And simplicity can improve our sense of wellbeing.
Constraints Inspire Creativity
Besides making things simpler, it turns out constraints inspire innovation, at least according to the Harvard Business Review. And this makes sense when you think about it too, along similar lines as the paradox of choice.
Unlimited possibilities, in any endeavor you attempt, is more likely to undermine your progress than to support it. Deadlines help you finish. Budgets help you afford what you’re doing. Specific goals help inform your outcome.
Embracing your natural constraints can help you come up with creative solutions to problems you’re facing. And imposing artificial constraints can help you break out of a rut.
If you were truly unlimited you’d never have to actually do anything, and that would lead to a very bland and unfulfilling life indeed.
You Are Not God
Finally, it’s important to acknowledge, you are not God. And that’s actually a good thing too.
God made us with bodies, and those bodies limit us in significant ways. We cannot be everywhere, and know everything. We can control very little. Even what we can control very often spins out of control without our constant attention.
Only God is infinite. Only God is omnipresent. Only God is omniscient. Only God is omnipotent. And because he is, and because he is good, we don’t have to be unlimited. We can rely on him to be infinite in the face of our finitude.
Because God is infinite, and because he is good, we don’t have to be unlimited.
We are beautifully dependent creatures. Because of our limitations we need God. Because of our limitations we need one another. This neediness feels, and is, very vulnerable. But it is in the context of that neediness and dependence that the beauty of marriage, and family, and community can all come into being.
The pressure is off. You’re not alone. Remember, you are dust. You’re not unlimited.
And that’s a good thing.