On Limits, Growth, and the Meaning of My Life

I notice I can keep tearing and rebuilding muscle and mass. Mentally, I can keep reading, learning, letting go, and creating new ideas and paradigm shifts. Disciplined and through practice, I kill my ego to love more and be kinder and compassionate more fully. I practice feeling and connecting with my understandings and biases to feel more profound feelings, lately sadness, joy, intention, desire, grief, whatever I need to feel.

Sometimes I feel lost; then I notice that my intellect can be the biggest asshole because I can be content with what I have in front of me by changing my thoughts. I can be still, eat fruit, play with my children, do nothing, and feel peace and love. I can just let go of expectations; I can let go. My thoughts can ultimately enhance or destroy me. My habits can be made and unmade, and my daily life changes with them. Everything is genuinely up to me — up to us.

So, what are my limits? Where am I going? I have not figured it out fully yet, but I will find out. My quest for strength, meaning, consciousness, body, heart, soul, spirit, peace, and love is taking me deeply into myself and has changed me so much. I run the risk of sounding greedy, but I suspect that I want it all; I want everything. A year ago, my life was 100% different from what it is today, and I’m proud of myself and who I am today — by action and habits, not by words, ideas, or intellect. I’m pleased and deeply in love with my life and with exploring compassion, kindness, empathy, boundaries, and giving without expectations. I’m proud to be able to model this power for my children and anybody around me.

And lately, I’ve noticed that the meaning of life is not something you ask others; it’s something you ask yourself — it’s something to be asked to yourself, and the answer is as much mine as it is yours — food for thought.

This post was originally published on Medium.