For my entire adult life, I’ve been extremely busy. I’ve always had multiple jobs. I’ve always had to drive all over the place for work. I’ve felt guilty for not spending enough time with family. I never seemed to have time to just hang out with folks. Even with a doctorate in music, I sometimes don’t feel that I’ve accomplished enough: I constantly wonder “have I made it?” “Can I afford to feel content?” Add children and a husband to the mix, and now I’m constantly worried about whether THEY have “enough.”
I’ve struggled to battle the lie that there isn’t enough time, there isn’t enough money, there isn’t enough food, there isn’t enough room. This scarcity mentality has been at the root of my perceived need to stay busy. Fear of scarcity has kept me from being generous to myself and to the people I care about. I believe I’ve had enough! I’ve always had enough. I am enough. I know I’ve been blessed, and I intend to celebrate my blessings.
So this summer, I have enough!
I’m taking the time to exercise and make healthier eating choices. I’m taking time to just be at home with my family. I’m taking my money and being strategic with it (not stingy) so I can do nice things for myself and for my loved ones, all summer long. I’m traveling to conferences in Las Vegas and in Portland later this summer, because I refuse to succumb to my fear that I can’t afford the cost or that I can’t afford to spend two weeks away from home for personal and professional enrichment. I’m working with my family to create a more beautiful, more functional, and less cluttered space at home, because I insist there’s enough room for all of us to live peacefully and happily in our shared space.
I’d also like to acknowledge that there are so many people on this earth who truly don’t have enough. There are people with all imaginable needs, and their needs go unmet because of broken systems and stingy, broken people who don’t believe there’s enough of anything for anyone or who are determined to make “enough” for themselves at the expense of everyone else. Stinginess and gluttony are two sides of the same coin: I believe both are driven by the perception of scarcity.
I’m back in my car. My chicken got a little wet. But I’m ok, thank God. Thank God for this warm dry car and this chicken. Thank God for that friendly woman, and for our beloved Rev. Zelda…; thank God for meds, for friends, for children, for music, and for the rain. Oh how we need this rain.
