My daughter was, for the most part, selfless. She was all about others and what would make them happy. And towards her efforts and goals to help make it so there were no barriers. She saw no barriers, and so there were none. For all intents and purposes she was purely and absolutely limitless.
Just her age perhaps? Some might say that. In all honesty that particular outlook seems to be prevalent in numerous toddlers, though geared individually to their own personalities, wants and needs, even their own family dynamic and circumstances.
Toddlers seem to excel in being tunnel-visioned. They set their little hearts, minds, and eyes on something. All else fades into the background, until at last that goal is in their sight, or even better, in their possession. For my toddler, more often than not she succeeded. And in her successes she found great joy and delight, so much so that those feelings inevitably boiled over and must then be shared with the nearest person or persons.
As most of us might know the joy of a toddler seems contagious at the very least, often bringing a genuine smile to the faces of those nearby. It can truly make our day.
Yet how is it that by the time we reach adulthood that sense of limitlessness is so scarce? Protectively tucked away almost, and brought out for only brief moments at a time.
Our dreams and goals have become more grounded in reality. We now see barriers that must first be overcome. The time and efforts to actually succeed often seem to muddy up our steps. We become bogged down. Exhaustion sets in.
Then new barriers seem to pop us, compounding the previous barriers. And now other voices come into the picture, whether our own inner voices or the voices of well meaning friends and family. “Are you sure you are up to that?” “Isn’t that just going to be too hard?” “Isn’t that kind of a wast of time?” “Wouldn’t this be easier, instead?”
Then our own self-doubt kicks into high gear. Maybe those voices are right. Maybe we can’t really do it.. Maybe we should just settle for less.
I recently find myself envious of my daughter, even from all those years ago. So how then do I get back to that limitlessness, particularly as far as my own dreams/goals go? What steps can I take?
I have two dreams/visions, one really big and the other only slightly less so. They are intertwined, to boot. And while I can certainly envision the outcomes, I do not see a clear and straight road to achievement. This road looks full of hills, mountains and curves, with no end in clear sight.
I know full well that there are numerous barriers and potholes along the way. I know this journey is going to be a step by step and mile by mile process. I know there are likely a good number of storms and other dangers along the way. But I also know the goal is so worth it. And not just for me, but for many people and their own families.
So now the question becomes “How do I again become limitlessness?” How do I tap into that as I make my way down this road and along this journey? How will I approach and remove these barriers? How do I not only weather any storms, but come out stronger on the other side? How do I become more tunnel visioned?
I don’t currently have the answers to those questions. I don’t really have a solid game plan. But I do know to take the first step. And then take another. I do know to call on God to take those steps with me. I do know there will be times that He will carry me or shield me. I know that I will need the help of others, now and again. I know I will hurt and feel worn at times. I know there will be times I feel I just can’t take another step. I know it will not be easy.
But… I know the end goal is so very worth it.
So I choose to jump into the journey. With the outlook of limitlessness, as much as with the depths of a toddler’s outlook as possible.
May we all see limitlessness more in our journeys right now, and in these next few seasons in our lives.
Of Loss and Love 