I remember throwing rocks at birds when I was a kid. They’d always fly away and I’d miss.
Then one time I got one. Knocked it right off the fence. I was in shock. “Did that really just happen?”
I felt conflicted. I didn’t think I could actually ever hit one. It’s like I was just playing with the boundaries of my world, and suddenly discovered that there wasn’t actually a boundary there at all.
The world is full of these imaginary boundaries. And as an adult, we really want to believe that the boundaries are real. They justify our inaction. They justify our outcomes (or lack of outcomes). They protect our ego.
Obstacles exist, but my gut tells me we create far more boundaries for ourselves than the world actually imposes.