On being enough
"I've got my shit together."
Those words come for me with a smirk of satisfaction, and they are usually paired with a bit of self-importance.
I love that high.
And "high" is the right word. My world grows hyper-productive for a reason. You can rest assured that with the met deadlines and the clean house and the on time birthday presents, I've distanced myself from my heart and numbed some longings.
I know in my head busy isn't "the best." That doesn't mean I'm great at taking responsibility for it. I tend to be more of a victim to the busy: "well, I have to, because..."
Last week, I was downloading some of my world’s “busy” over a custom Old Fashioned from my mom. I explained that overall I have felt good about how I juggle the important things; I’m pretty sure I know how to maintain balance in my life. But, I confessed, the last week had spun a little out of control. I’d decided I knew why and relayed my well-reasoned explanation to my mother, along with my plan to fix the problem.
And the plan was sounding pretty convincing. I mean, I was convinced.
Till I started talking about the rest of my life.
All of a sudden, my pinpointed problem didn’t seem to explain so well why I was so strung out. Sure I had identified a factor, in the same way that a fever is part of a cold. It’s part of why you feel bad, but it isn’t really the problem.
The truth was I had grown busy to manage relational anxiety. As my anxiety had climbed over the last couple weeks, so had my to do list.
The quiet that I love, that I need, had just left so much room for thinking and feeling. I’d tried to welcome those thoughts. I wanted to pay attention to my heart. But after a while, I decided doing extra felt a lot more powerful than embracing trust.
Realizing that while sitting out on my parent’s porch, Old Fashioned in hand, was not my favorite moment. Something I thought I was doing well betrayed another space where I’m broken.
A lot of times that is exactly how life works. It’s not all good or all bad, all kind or all cruel, all selfless or all self-protective.
Life is a blend of our bravest and most terrified selves woven through each day.
I don’t think our goal should be “stop being afraid.”
I think our goal has to be “remember, you are enough.”
“Katy, you don’t have to take that on, because you are enough.”
“Katy, regardless of your fears being realized or imaginary, you can stay present, because you are enough.”
“Katy, you failed today, and you’ll fail tomorrow, and you are enough.”
When I think about God and His heart of goodness, I see enough of that goodness in this world for each of us. There’s enough. And the goodness can redeem brokenness in ways my busy never can. So no more tight shit. I would rather stay present, and hopeful, and enough.