Enough

There are many, many (oh so many) things about my house and garden that I’d like to change or make better. The garden isn’t prolific enough, the house seems to always be in some state of disarray, the washing is endless, the walls needs a paint, the weeds, dear god the weeds. 

And it feels like every time I start one of the jobs, all I can think about are the other jobs and how they’re not being done. And even if I did a big chunk of them, that wouldn’t be enough and more jobs would loom. 

And the jobs I’ve already done will need to be done again in a day or two.

It’s enough to make me not do any of them.

I am learning the art of enough. Clean enough. Tidy enough. Enough for today.

And is this view of my world also how I view myself? Not enough? Too much mess to be worthy of love? 

I hate to admit it but…maybe. There’s so much in me I want to say and do but I don’t do any of it because it’s not good enough, or finished enough, or tidy enough. So I don’t show the world the skills I have because they’re not enough, finished enough, good enough. Tidy enough. 

It’s easy to find the flaws. I look for the flaws. Which means all I see are flaws. And why would I want to flaunt my flaws?!

The solution, of course, is to do a bit. Weed a bit, do one load of washing. Rest. Yes, there is more to do, but isn’t there always? Write a bit. Rest.

Yes it’s flawed, but isn’t everything?