As you may know, I broke my left kneecap on July 23rd. Ever since, my life has largely been confined to a couch or chair inside my house. I wrote this reflection after seeing Cowboys and Aliens with my older brother, Mike, last week. This discourse was not inspired by the movie, but rather by my getting out of the house after being cooped up for over two weeks.
Here is the idea. I have reflected many times in the past about the important role the body plays in our plight to become all we can be, to attain our greatest potential. I have accepted such ideas so as not to become consumed by the idea that the body is a burden, something holding us back. Rather, the body is a vehicle, our greatest tool toward discovering all we can about ourselves and about the world. We are spiritual beings within bodies, and we are not trapped as so many outdated religions and ideologies attempt to make us believe; rather, we are as free as we are willing to make ourselves, able to roam the world at the best of our physical abilities, and granted the blessing of being able to continually push the limits, drive further, and become stronger, more fit, more able.
Photo courtesy of the great pusher of human limits, Rob Garwitz. Taken roughly an hour after the accident. |
As I reflected about this topic in the past, I saw the issue through a very thin lens—I was healthy, active, and had never sustained an injury preventing me from exercising or moving around easily. Therefore, I excluded many people from my discourse, preferring only to speak of those who have strong working limbs and possess the ability to make them stronger. I often tended to ignore anyone else as ‘weak’ and/or ‘submissive.’ Among those I excluded were the handicapped, and as it turns out, I am currently in a handicapped state, my left leg entirely unusable, deteriorating further each day.
So, now that I am here, do I have no choice but to fall? Do I no longer possess the ability to push my body’s limits, become stronger, more able, and freer? My lazy behavior over the last two weeks since the injury would easily suggest that I no longer possess this ability, that I’m destined to fall, but an insight granted unto me tonight assured me otherwise. Biologically, my body is still as active as it was before the injury—I have simply been choosing to allow it to grow weaker. But it is not dead!
Here is how I understand the issue—each of us has very set limitations at each moment. It is the nature of being human. Think of it in terms of the following image: the human is a circle in the center of a box… all of us are. Though the box can be mistaken for a cage, it need not be so. The human is a dynamic organism in the center of its limitations with unlimited potential for growth. The limitations around us—the edges of the box—though very real, are also dynamic, in motion. Some examples of limitations—cardiovascular limits (how you grow too tired to carry on while running and ‘reach your body’s limit’), intellectual limits (the finite amount you are able to grasp intellectually at a given moment). These two examples, as you very well know, are very dynamic. Continue running and you will be able to run further and faster—your cardiovascular limits expand… continue reading and studying and you will be able to understand complex arguments better—your intellectual limits expand. As these limits expand, your space within the new limitations expands as well (the box surrounding you widens), and you grow to fill that empty space.
It is important to note that the human is connected to the limitations—the circle is connected to the box, not independent of it. Thus, the human possesses the ability to push the limits, slowly but surely. That which exists beyond the limits is infinite space, and that which exists beyond the infinite space (ungraspable by reason) is true freedom—there is no limit to how far the limits of the human can be stretched, and thus no limit to human growth potential. All finite limits are self-imposed, illusory by nature.
Unfortunately, these limits can have the reverse effect to what has just been described, and sadly, the reverse effect is far more common this day and age. The ‘reverse effect’ occurs when the limits actually move inward, when they decrease the space the human occupies and causes it to shrink, to weaken. This occurs when one forgets that one is connected to one’s limits and possesses the innate ability to push those limits. As the limits move inward, the effects are disastrous—one becomes lazy with no concern for one’s body or one’s health, preferring not to think about betterment in the future but instead concerning oneself with instantaneous pleasures, satisfying cravings. One no longer has the space to possess self-esteem, for the limits of one’s being have closed in and are suffocating the person. Resulting, one becomes more apt to depression and addiction to false forms of happiness, for true happiness awaits in the space beyond one’s limits. Drugs and alcohol may temporarily remind these people of what life beyond their limits is like, yet they will always come back down, and their addiction further blinds them from the fact that within themselves is the ability to push their limits and grow stronger—they have the power, they hold the key. But it is the tendency of those who suffer from the ‘reverse effect’ to submit, to give up and become just another number, a mere sheep amidst the flock.
Is it ever too late to change the limits’ direction of motion? I cannot know, but I do not believe it is. I was pushing stronger than ever before, moving outward into that infinite space at a rapid rate, and then my injury struck, and since, I have been allowing my limitations to move inward, to suffocate me to the point at which I have begun to prefer great laziness to any attempt at pushing my now more limited abilities, convincing myself that the rest is speeding up my recovery. I just accepted that this is my situation, that I must sit here in this chair or on this couch all day… no other option.
Tonight, when Mike helped me get out, I realized that this is not true. Breaking my knee changed a lot, and I need to recognize those changes. For what the event changed is the location of my limitations. I had grown used to my limits before the accident, very aware of how much my body could handle, but post-accident, the new limits have become entirely foreign to me. Thus, I have allowed them to move in. But in reality, I have not really attempted to find them. I’ve moved around a bit, but when I do, I just think about getting back to my chair. No longer will this be my mentality.
Sure, I cannot do much of what I did before. I cannot go out and run. I cannot go to the gym. But I can go outside on my crutches and crutch around until I’m exhausted. Some speed work, maybe. Yes, then I will see where my limits are. And it is true—knowing oneself is knowing one’s limits. That’s why knowing yourself is a moment-to-moment challenge—cause your limits are always changing!
So I can push my new limits, I simply must be creative in finding a way to do so. Therefore, become stronger, pushing yourself toward greater freedom through the use of the vehicle that is our body, does not exclude the handicapped. The handicapped, rather, must find a way to move around the excuses that are so easy to fall under and push themselves physically in any way they can. Then, they push their own limits, open up more space for growth, and move closer to recognizing freedom. Limits are entirely relative, and the self-aware person understands his or her own limits, not matter the facts of one’s situation.
One may say that the idea of the human being possessing the ability to push its limits to no end is a dangerous idea, an idea sure to fill one with hubris. On the contrary, I see it as a humble practice, for one can only grow and move forward if one first recognizes how limited one truly is and how much exists beyond one’s self (that is to say one’s limitations, for one’s limits are equivalent to the borders of the self).
It must be known that a life of pushing the limits is not an easy life. Out there, in the infinite space, lies much pain and suffering. You will make mistakes, overestimate your limits, and fall, just as I have experienced. Yes, you will find much pain, but in the pain, you will discover a very important truth: that there is no greater fuel for pushing the limits than pain itself. Back to our cardio example—you cannot and will not get in better shape unless you push the limits of your ability, and you cannot and will not push those limits unless you feel pain. The pain telling you to stop, to submit, to give in. But you must listen to your self, noble and wise, calmly telling you to endure, to push through the pain, and therefore propel yourself closer to true freedom. It is an ongoing, all-inclusive process, but one that must be taken seriously, for it is Life itself. Life, true Life, as we have forgotten it to be, exists out there in the open space, and all pain is worth enduring in order to find it.
I often think about people born into wealth versus those born into poverty. The rich person is given plenty to survive and can live comfortably easily, but then that person is not as incentivized to push their limits and try to grow. They might think that they have already achieved something by just being born into wealth and they do not need to stretch their limits to survive. How many kids have you known in your life that came from money but still seem a little messed up and unhappy? I can count a few. At the same time the poor kid who has to push his limits daily and struggle to get into Yale will probably have a much better level of self esteem and respect for having come so far, while the rich kids shrugs as his family name just got him in. Do you think this phenomenon is the same as stretching our physical limits? I like the quote that says "each of us is born with a different set of crayons, some have more some have less. But it's not how many your born with, it's what you create out of what you're give that counts" Cheesy but a good way to explain it I think? How's the knee now Sean?
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