The story inside my head says I’m not enough. The voice that talks to me says it’s never good enough. It’s never enough weight on the barbell or lean enough or fast enough. It’s never organized enough or brave enough or patient enough. It’s never disciplined enough or free enough or impulsive enough. It’s just never quite enough.
Sometimes I wonder what I would do if it was enough. Would I relax and know contentment? Or would I die a stagnant death?
I used to think all of this was my “competitive drive.” But, I’m not always sure. What I’ve come to realize is that the harder i do something, the harder it often becomes. The harder I Mom, the more my kids resist that control and the harder I have to Mom. The harder I train, the more my body resists the goals and the harder I have to train. The harder I homeschool, the more overwhelmed and unenthusiastic I feel about homeschooling and the harder I have to make myself homeschool. You get the idea. The crazy thing about the whole deal is that I am aiming for some indeterminate thing that I can’t even see. I don’t even know what enough actually is; it’s a moving target. In other words, I am setting myself up to never be enough, to never be worthy of accomplishment.
Today was the final day of our Nature School, closing ceremony. I played today over in my mind no less than one million times. It went nothing like how I pictured it. As we hiked out of the woods, I felt totally deflated. I was working to keep my disappointment hidden. One of the boys jogged up next to me and my oldest son.
“Today, was THE best ever!” He exclaimed.
“Oh yeah?” I asked.
My son slipped his hand in mine and looked up at me, dirt lining his neck. “Mom, it was amazing. I’m dirty, I’m sweaty and I found a turtle. What more could I ask for?” Then, he grinned and ran off with the others.
It’s so simple, really. Enough is exactly that. It is just enough, no more. It is constantly checking in to see if what I am doing is still working and changing it when it’s not. It’s noticing when it’s heartless actions that are no longer filled with joy and finding new meaningful ways to expend my energy. It’s making each thing count, not counting the things. I am worthy and I am doing good. You are, too. We’re both enough.