Mike Rutledge.CA

Who likes being limited?

Imagine you had a fish. Any fish. Goldfish, Haddock, Trout, Clown Fish, any fish. And you love that fish, you wanted to keep that fish alive and thriving. You have an amazing aquarium for it, you feed it, wash the tank, the whole deal. Now, imagine if that fish, all of the sudden, was able to talk. Your fish swims to you and says that it no longer likes this cage you’ve trapped it in wants to be where you are – a complete Ariel moment. Of course, your response at this point is pretty predictable isn’t it? “[Insert fish’s name] you are a fish, you live in water. You cannot be where the people are (obviously said in tune).” We know that fish thrive in water. And if your fish protests, you will resist it. You will tell that fish, that to leave the water will be to its own hurt. You even tell it, ‘hey, I’ll put you into the lake, or river, I’ll set you free into the wild if you want.” But unsatisfied by your suggestion, and constant opposition to its joy, your fish decides it time to take matters into its own, fins. A few minutes later you find your fish, flopping around, unable to breathe, on the floor. You pick it up, put it back, and hope it learned that you weren’t being mean, but deeply loving.

You are not a fish. Humans are far more complex than water vs. air. Yet we can learn something about us through this short parable.

Again, I ask, who likes being limited? Who enjoys confinement?

On the surface, I think most of our reactions would be no one likes it. Sure, we accept it at times but not with joy. Yet, what I think is really true is that humans need it.

One of the competing stories with unhurried urgency, one that often makes us feel more alive, yet actually rob us of joy is the myth of unlimited freedom that has limitations, confinements, and capacity as its primary villain. I’m sure, looking back at the the fish you can see this story played out. If the fish wanted to be out of the bowl, then according to the myth of unlimited freedom, the only good, even loving thing, would be to say yes. Yes to the fishes desire and autonomous choice for its own life. Any other answer would be detrimental to its free expression of will, of its personal definition. He may be a fish, but he’s no water fish. It may sound silly to stretch the parable this far. Yet, I hope at this point the lesson is obvious.

Freedom, really, is living within the proper limitations that give rise to the greatest joy.

We are like the fish. We may want swim outside the water. We may even try. However the end of that endeavour will always be the same.

The reason why understanding that freedom is found in limitation is so important, is that when you do, your life becomes more in focus and the pathway to joy becomes less a wandering mess and more a predictable path. You begin to see that NO leads to a better yes.

Limitations are not the thief of joy, but often the way finding it.

There is this often forgotten (maybe forsaken?) dimension of freedom, that says the freedom to say no – no the self, no the greed, no to misplaced desire, no even the good things for greater ones – is as much part of the freedom we need as being able to say yes to the good we want to pursue. There is a positive liberty which we all I hope agree on (its the basis of modern liberal democracy), and there is the negative liberty we need to truly thrive.

See, all though you have been told that you can do anything you put your mind to as a kid – a fine encouragement for a season of life – the reality is you can’t. That’s not a bad thing. It is just liberatingly true. Yet the “you can do anything/unlimited freedom” story is everywhere. From the lucrative self help movement, to instagram influencers, to the ‘popular’ preachers who’s sermons are mainly motivational speeches, the story is the same, don’t limit yourself. Dream bigger. Do More. You can. God even wants that for you!

And yet, for all the books, posts, talks, podcasts, and articles, it seems that we are no less closer to finding the joy we seek. We are confused I think; never really passing the adolescent search for ourselves because we have bought into the story that the good is found in unlimited potential instead of narrowed purpose.

I don’t want to sound negative – which I realize this could easily be read as – because at the heart of it, this is the pursuit of joy. I just think we have to change perspectives from potential to purpose. Negative freedom, in this way, isn’t just about the clear moral dimension – which is huge and something to not be glossed over – it is also about the freedom to say that comparison is no longer the marker of a life well lived. That no, you do not have to hustle like ‘x’ to be something. No you don’t have to leave your mark on history to be significant. No, you don’t have to have some elaborate dream that makes everyone doubt you to be special.

What if, you weren’t made to chase all the potentials of your life? That would after all be an almost endless pursuit. What if instead, you embraced your limitation as a way to discover and clarify the calling? What if joy wasn’t always in bigger, but in smaller?

Think about the fish. If it embraced that the fact that it could only be in water, it could maximize its joy there. Maybe in the lake, in a river, in the ocean (forgoing the whole fresh water/salt water deal). But to forsake the water, no natter how limiting it may be would be to its harm.

It’s not cruel to keep it in water, it’s cruel to suggest that it needs air.

So, what? Don’t dream big dreams? Don’t chase greatness? Actually, I’d suggest you’d better define what those mean first. I think maybe, instead of the constant bigger, let’s start talking about significance, legacy, and faithfulness.

Let’s begin to define what the water is. Water, in this case is purpose. Air is potential. Water is what’s actually in my hand. Air is what is in their hands that I wish was in mine. Water is the difference I can actually make with the people I see everyday, Air is the difference I hope to make one day with a bunch of people who don’t know me and I don’t know at all. Water is maximizing the place I am in, Air is the dissatisfaction with what I don’t have and who I am not.

You can be the fish that is always looking out of the water, hoping to breathe. Or you can be the fish that embraces the place and maximizes it’s freedom.

I have wasted too much time wanting Air.