enough...

The kitchen sink is currently full of the pocketed shawl that I just finished for my sister.  While it soaks I decided to sit in my sitting room, look out over my beautiful backyard, drink my tea and write.  I've really been doing some heavy thinking and processing this weekend.  It's been peaceful, calming and centering.  All of the things I have been lacking. As evidenced by the card I drew yesterday - All Tied Up.

I have been lost in my thoughts as my hands have been busy creating.  Four projects completed in one weekend?  I am absolutely buzzing from the energy I get with creating.  It will make it very hard to go to work tomorrow.  I'm on a roll, I hate slowing down again.  

For over 18 years my sweet Hubs has been trying to talk me into having faith in me, to starting a quilting business and living my dreams.  For that entire time, I have been pushing back.  Telling him he's a dreamer, that I am not good enough, it wouldn't help us support our family... oh my the stories I told not only him, but myself.  Anything to avoid taking a leap, having faith, simply believing in myself. 

I've often worried that we won't have enough.  That is one of the things I have really been digging into this weekend. What is enough?  At what point do you pass the imagined enough and have more than?  Or at what point do you truly not have enough.  What exactly am I measuring with enough? Is it a measurement?  

This morning Hubs came up from the man cave with a mischievous smile on his face. He thought I had slept in, when in reality I had been awake for several hours.  I took time to meditate, shower and vacuum up the huge amounts of my hair that blanket the house now. 

I had toyed with the idea of finding a beginner's yoga on YouTube and shied away from that idea. My knees are a hot mess and I am actually living in a world of fear where they are concerned. Although I am still feeling drawn to a yoga practice, I don't feel at this point I can risk any more damage. Tai Chi is looking promising though - several recent conversations have led me to believe that my original class was maybe not really Tai Chi. 

As I poured my coffee and enjoyed the beautiful sunrise out the window, I pressed for a reason for the smile.  If you knew him as well as I do, it only means one thing.  He's discovered or found something that for the moment (not a long one at that) will remain a secret.  Shhh... don't tell him, but he can't keep secrets very well.  At least not simple ones. 

I was still thinking through what the day ahead could hold when he said, that we would need to leave in an hour.  We were going to Columbia for lunch.

I had anticipated going for a motorcycle ride in a few hours if it had warmed enough, but I can assure you Columbia was not even remotely on my radar. Bewildered and amused I grabbed my steaming coffee and followed him upstairs.  

While we debated if the air was warm enough for either the bike or convertible, we both started getting ready.  Below 50 outside meant we were taking the truck.  He could have his cigars in that, I don't allow them in the bug unless it is top down weather.  I didn't ask where we were going.  I'm sure he was going nuts that I wasn't pleading for information.  I am trying to do better at just going with the flow of things and not needing to know everything. 

It didn't take him long to start dropping hints about the treasure he had found. He'd already called to make sure the almost two hour trip would not be a water haul.  They were definitely open. He shared with me that they make their specialty fresh every morning.  That they were considered the best place for their specialty outside of their home country.  I think there was one more hint, but honestly I was ready to guess.  I truly wasn't expecting to be right on the first guess... but score one for intuition!  He'd found a little mom and pop place in the heart of Columbia.  Cafe Poland.  Yep we were going to drive there just for pierogi's. 

Ironically I chose crepes

Sweet Hubs had pierogi's

Heading out west, my fingers flying through the final steps of my crochet project, chatting.  I have to say it was wonderful.  Our conversations flew in so many directions.  My heart was full, I had enough.

We pondered the future.  He's able to retire whenever he is ready.  I'm still too young by the government's standards.  For a long time the rule follower in me wanted to listen to them.  Again, I was bringing out the arguments by the bucketful. Slowly my heart and inner voice have started to believe what Hubs has said all along.  I don't know when I will take that leap of faith, who knows I might need to be shoved off that cliff.  Chicken that I am. 

We talked about the things we missed from before.  I pondered all of the things that I have given up in pursuit of the mythical "enough".  We had time to honestly unpack why I don't spend more time creating.  Especially as it is so vitally a part of who I am.  We daydreamed about the future, we "spit balled" names for my imaginary quilting business.  In a world where time is fluid and dreams are the currency that we trade in.

Truthfully, somewhere along the way, I have fallen in line with the if you work as much as is humanly possible then you are successful. Is that how you find the mythical "enough".  Is it a tangible thing?  Or is it something we are taught.  That you cannot ever have or be enough without hitting benchmarks in life.  It doesn't matter if those benchmarks bring joy, love, or satisfaction as long as you hit them.  

My home is filled with stuff.  Stuff bought with hours of my life in the pursuit of enough.  

Piles of supplies for crafts that I never have time to do.  Books I'd love to read, but fall asleep from exhaustion by the time I open them.  Cards that call to me to study, learn and someday master, when I can only manage the simplest of readings. Stacks of cookbooks - and to a large degree the ingredients to make most of the things that draw my attention.  Time spent with my children and grand children. Motorcycle rides with Hubs. Or quiet picnics in the park.

I have spent years searching for balance.  Maybe all that time I should have been searching for the meaning of enough. 

My dad always wanted us girls to shine, to be the best at everything.  If this was good enough, then how did you achieve better.  I remember a straight A report card and his disappointment because I hadn't achieved an A+.  He wasn't being cruel, he was proud of me (I know that now) he just wanted better for us. He'd had it a bit tough growing up, he didn't want his girls to have those experiences.  

Is that where my fear of not having or being enough began.  I don't know.  

Sitting here, listening to some beautiful hang drum music, enjoying the sunshine on my face, sipping my now cold tea, watching the birds flit in and out of the different feeders that we have hanging.  I am secure in the knowledge that I am loved for me.  I am in a safe place.  

With children and grandchildren that I love and adore.  A husband that probably needs his eyes (possibly his head) examined as he never points out the things I could and should change about myself.  Instead he always tells me that I am more than enough. 

my better half

I am so unbelievably blessed to have found my soul mate.  To have been brave enough to follow my heart.  In a world that is always demanding more, it is so wonderful to be someone's enough. 

The future we are dreaming of, seems much more tangible, more obtainable.  It feels like enough.