The truck I drive for work is governed. Sixty-five, that's it. The pedal will go to the floor and the engine will not care.
So I live in the slow lane. Me and the 18-wheelers, capped and resigned.
For a while that's what it felt like. Resigned.
Then somewhere in there I started seeing what the slow lane actually holds. The drivers who wave you in. The rigs that ease over for a stranger on the shoulder. A whole culture of patience running at 65 while the left lane screams past to save four minutes.
The cap didn't slow me down. It put me somewhere I could finally see.
You've probably got a governor on something too. The job that caps the hours. The body that caps the pace. The season of life that will not let you floor it no matter how hard you press.
You can spend years pressing the pedal through the floor, calling the cap the enemy.
Or you can look around the lane it put you in.
The one thing:
What has the thing you can't floor been trying to show you?
Josh
P.S. I'm doing the 30-day Ash Journal myself right now, in public. One page a day, no edits.
Five minutes. One prompt. One line of ash. The first seven days are free: truevitalyou.com/journal