Being Boundless vs. Being “Broken”

Hey, it's Ben Greenfield. Every week I release a quick podcast with some meaningful thoughts that

hopefully make your life better. And this is it. If you would like these thoughts delivered

straight into your email inbox, go to bengreenfieldlife.com slash newsletter. And when you do that,

you can also get access to leave comments, leave thoughts, leave your feedback because I love

to hear what you think. All right, let's dive in. You know, growing up, I was the perfect kid

ish. I rarely got in trouble. I got really good grades. I was successful at all my jobs. I did

well at sports. Everybody said I was really going to amount to something. I even heard my little

sister once described me as having golden child syndrome. I don't know what that is, but by the

sounds of it, it seems like it could be about right. And as you can imagine, I got pretty obsessed

with perfection pretty quickly. After all, it was my identity. It was my destiny, supposed to

really be somebody. I didn't like owning anything with a noticeable blemish or shortcoming or deformity

that could threaten to ruin my perfect image. I could spot a tiny grammar or spelling error on

any essay or book or magazine article a mile away. By 14 years old, I got into bodybuilding to develop

a flawless physique. And I would run straight up the side of the mountain behind my north Idaho

childhood home like clockwork 40 minutes straight up and back down before dinner.

Inconcistencies and imperfections around any rules, systems or protocols would drive me nuts,

anything that remotely sniffed of falling short or laziness or lack of attention to excellence

or unproductivity also drove me nuts. Why is this not perfect yet? Why is this not trying harder

to be perfect? Heck, even though I've lightened up a bit, that imperfection still

hurts me if I don't catch myself. Every open loop needs to be a closed loop in any area of life,

including zero email inbox, no red notification badges on the phone screen, no tasks that have not

been completed or delegated, or else I'll often lay awake at night. Anxious about anything flawed

or broken or incomplete that I or someone else needs to fix. And also anxious that I might be

judged as anything less than one darn put together guy by the world. As you can imagine,

this obsession with perfection fueled my early personal and professional pursuit of extreme

fitness and biohacking and supplements and diets and workouts and tools and technologies and

procedures to maintain health and aesthetics and that image of perfection to the world.

No imperfection. I must be unstoppable. I must be superhuman. I must be limitless, boundless.

After all, the opposite of being boundless to me was being broken and I certainly couldn't deal

with that. And as I age, the pursuit of perfection led to fewer and fewer efforts to become a

well-rounded renaissance man. After all, learning new things meant initially being bad at them

and risking public failure and I'll be a sign of imperfection. And as time progressed,

I found myself gradually as I aged, avoiding anything, I perceived myself to risk failing at.

For example, once I realized I wasn't good enough in college to be a top collegiate or

pro tennis player, I just kind of quit the sport and moved on. Once I stopped getting on the podium

in trathlons and feeling myself slow down just a little bit, I moved on. Once professional

obstacle course running got saturated by guys who were way faster than me, I moved on. I couldn't

stand the idea of anything but a top finish, a podium and I wouldn't enjoy a sport unless that was

a real possibility. Even honestly, the relationship with my dad bore the brunt of my demands for

perfection. When I was young, I thought he would be this rich and successful entrepreneur with

the coffee roasting empire, but he never went big with that despite my persistent nudging. And eventually

he and my mom got divorced and that ruined the prospects for me of showcasing a perfect family

to the world. My dad wandered the world and he grew big beard and he got really skinny and starting

wearing hippie clothes and became this version of a man that seemed far from perfect by my standards.

So we straight apart, we didn't talk much. I'm not saying this to dishonor him, this is just the

reality. And after he got cancer and he died, I felt like I officially failed in my final attempts to

perfect him by saving his life. He became just another blemish or shortcoming or deformity on

my record. And that's still something I'm dealing with, not even being able to save my father

and having that really bug me. But frankly, we're all broken, maybe some of this resonates with you.

Every one of us, our body breaks down, our brain breaks down, our families break down, we are not

boundless. No matter how strict we are and fit we get at the end of the day, we'll all be lying on

our deathbed with stringy beef jerky for muscles and porous bones and clogged arteries and plaque

brains. In the Bible, it says outwardly we're wasting away. The earthly tent we live in is eventually

destroyed. Our lives are like grass. We flourish like the flower of the field and then the wind blows us

over and we're gone. We're fleeting shadows. We don't endure. Those are all quotes directly from

the Bible, my handbook for life. Now we must accept that and be grateful for it because it keeps us

humble. It grants us empathy towards others. It gives us a glimpse of the eternal, perfect heavenly

afterlife we can one day have. An afterlife that we can step into, not because we are our own

Savior but because we have cast all of that brokenness and the guilt and fear and shame that

accompanies it at the feet of a true Savior. Now it's not until we admit and accept that we're broken

and we become grateful for that brokenness and we understand that true and lasting boundlessness

if we want to call it that will only come through focusing on what is truly eternal which I would

say is our love for God and our love for our fellow human beings. It's only after that that we

can find contentiveness in pumping the iron and running the hills and diving into icy water and

taking the supplements and doing the biohacks and carrying so much for the body. It's not until we

stop trying to be perfect that we can savor the journey of becoming the best version of our broken

self. It's not until then that we can run the marathon not to win but to savor the adventure

and the thrill of competition not to play the instrument to step on stage in front of thousands

of screaming fans but to just appreciate the chords and the vibrations and the chaotic imperfections

when we occasionally miss a note. Carrying for our body not to be a supermodel or forever young

or ripped on social media but to equip ourselves to live a life of courage and adventure.

It's not until we accept that we are broken that we can find happiness in the pursuit of temporal

boundlessness. So those are my thoughts on this pursuit of health those are my thoughts on being

boundless. And I would love to hear your thoughts. Leave your questions, comments, feedback right here

where you're watching this video or listening to this audio. I read them all. Thanks for being here.