Living from the Future

When I look back on the goals I’ve reached and the dreams I’ve actualized, I see a pattern:

They all required me to inhabit the present and the future simultaneously.

When I was studying Spanish, I had to completely immerse myself in the process of learning the impossible (and surrendering to the accompanying brain strain), while also holding to the bright magic of connection and possibility I knew existed on the other side.

When I was an athlete, I had to feel the thrill of strength, power, and speed in my body that didn’t exist yet, while also pushing through exhaustion in practice and giving my energy and focus to the set in front of me.

When I was learning to coach, it was the beautiful vision of my future self - competent, powerful, and magical - that motivated me to volunteer to practice in front of the whole class and risk failing spectacularly.

My dreams require me to be in two places at once.

They ask me to work from the both-and space where the present touches the future.

They pull me toward the imperative of the humble, practical, day-to-day work in front of me now, just as they ask me to do magic and travel through time to feel what is already real in my imagination.

And when I follow these instructions, it starts to feel like I’m not only walking toward the future, but the future is walking toward me, and we’ll meet somewhere in the middle - in that space where grit, presence, groundedness, imagination, and vision all converge into the magic of actualized possibility

Setting Boundaries and Investing in Possibility

I think about boundaries a lot.  It’s a topic that often comes up in my workplace and with coaching clients.  And it’s something I track closely in my own life and experience: am I protecting my space and energy?  Do I have what I most need?  Am I starting to feel overwhelmed or resentful and need to readjust?

Saying no not only helps me eliminate what I do not want in life; it also fortifies the energy, experiences, and relationships I do want.  In other words, boundaries are not only a no; they are also a yes.

Boundaries not only build walls of protection around our safety and wellbeing; they can also push us into spaces of unknown, open possibility in which we’re asked to imagine, create, and seek out what we want.

In this sense, boundaries are a leap of faith.  Saying no to what is familiar and just good-enough so that we have the space to say yes to what truly dazzles and enlivens can feel like a risk.  It often is a risk.

But boundaries are investments in possibility.

And in cases like these, I try to remember that it’s okay, and actually essential, to use boundaries as tools to create empty spaces of uncertainty because those are also fertile spaces in which our dreams and desires get nourished, take root, and find ways to grow and expand into our lives.