You only think you know where your limit is. You are wrong.
What you are calling your limit is just the last place you stopped. It is not a wall. It is a chalk line you drew the day you ran out of will, and you have believed it ever since. You never tested it. You just agreed to it.
You cannot find the edge from the inside. The only way to locate your limit is to walk straight at it and push past the point where everything in you says stop. That burning place where you want to quit — that is not the limit. That is the edge of the known. The limit is somewhere past it, and the only way to see it is to cross into the dark.
The moment you push past the edge, the edge moves. The limit you just broke is not your limit anymore — it is your new floor. Cross it and it relocates, further out, every time. You are not discovering a fixed boundary. You are pushing one. You are the one holding the chalk.
You will never find your limit. You will only ever find your current edge — and move it.
