The word ‘abundance’ has become a kind of cultural mantra among crunchy types (myself included).
But like most mantras, it risks becoming diluted when repeated too often among like-minded people.
To me, abundance points toward a belief in the generative power of nature and the false notion of scarcity humans often impose on the world in our attempt to reduce, manage, and control it.
Being immersed in nature every day makes it hard to deny this feeling.
Whether it’s the thousands of seeds that fall from a single plant or the overwhelming flush of tomatoes that bend our trellises each summer, nature offers no shortage of examples of abundance.
And while nature’s abundance can help reshape some of our own limiting beliefs, when it comes to doing meaningful work in the world, I’ve come to believe constraints are equally important.
Contrary to their negative connotation, constraints are often powerful activators of progress.
Without them, things can collapse under the weight of limitless potential.
Constraints narrow our focus and challenge us to refine ourselves in pursuit of a specific goal. They give force to our intentions.
Consider water. Lacking form, it’s just a puddle. But give it downhill direction and a narrow pathway through which to travel, and suddenly it becomes powerful.
Our lives, in my opinion, are no different.
Without direction, life can feel stagnant. Puddle-like.
Direction moves us into action. It gives us downhill momentum.
But direction necessarily introduces constraints.
To choose a single path forward is, by definition, to not choose the near-infinite number of other paths available to us.
To some — myself included, not long ago — this choice can feel completely overwhelming.
“What if I choose wrongly?” I would ask myself throughout my twenties.
Well then, choose again.
Easier said than done, of course.
But the ability to choose again — to redirect your path, to reinvent yourself — is something always available to us.
Or at least I deeply believe so.
And the distance you’ve traveled down a path you’re considering abandoning is not wasted time, but hard-fought experience that informs the next path forward.
Computer science has a concept that captures this interplay between seeking depth and seeking diversity of experience. It’s known as the explore-exploit tradeoff.
In this framework, a system first surveys a wide range of possibilities — exploration. Once a promising path emerges, it shifts toward exploitation, deepening its understanding in pursuit of a meaningful outcome.
And if that path no longer yields results, the system returns once again to exploration, informed by everything it learned from the last cycle.
I’ve always found this model surprisingly accurate in describing how meaning emerges in life.
We begin not knowing where to start. The abundance of possible paths feels paralyzing.
Over time, we encounter certain paths that resonate with us.
And once we find one, we dive in.
But I think many people mistakenly assume this is where the process ends, when in fact the process itself is never-ending.
When we finally find a path that speaks deeply enough to us to choose it over the near-infinite number of other possible paths, the full effect of constrained abundance begins to reveal itself.
Momentum compounds on itself.
Relationships deepen. Skills sharpen. Opportunities emerge. What once required force begins to feel increasingly fluid, as though life itself is moving with you rather than against you.
And while this process can appear almost magical from the outside, I think it is simply the natural consequence of sustained attention, care, and devotion directed toward something meaningful.
The challenge then becomes less about creating momentum and more about not interrupting it — though perhaps that’s a discussion for another time.
There is abundance available to us all. But contrary to the more whimsical interpretations of this idea, unlocking that abundance may first require introducing a few meaningful constraints into our lives.