I journal every day.
I clean something in my house every day.
I talk to my children and my husband every day.
I watch ESPN with my son every day.
I walk and talk, laugh and share political conversation with my daughter every day.
I drive somebody someplace every day.
And there's a whole lot more I do every day or nearly every day.
I don't write this list to boast.
That's not the point.
The point is that I do a lot of things every day... and yet it never feels like enough.
Here's what happens in my head.
"I know I journal every day. I give thanks for things every day. I laugh at squirrels and my dog and my kids and my nutty husband every single day. But do I journal enough? And when I journal, am I pouring out my soul deeply enough? Am I grateful enough? Do I love my kids enough? Is my house clean enough? Do I pray enough?"
It's an endless litany of self-criticism and angst-building that sometimes erodes the deep joy that I do experience in my life.
(Here it goes again: Am I joyful enough? Do I notice my life enough? Am I soulful enough?)
I read other people's blogs. I read their stories about their faith journey, their parenting journey, and I marvel at how they can work outside the home, raise amazing kids, cook gourmet meals, have a fantastic and ongoing love affair with their handsome and fit husbands after 18 years of blissful marriage.
Even in real life, not in the virtual world, I listen to my friends talk about their homes, their cars, their children's academic and athletic accomplishments, their new purchases, their fitness and weight loss goals being reached, and their vibrant social lives.
I drool. I'm jealous. And I wonder - am I doing enough to measure up to what they're doing?
Am I as deep as she is?
Am I as truthful as he is?
Do I travel as much as he does?
Are we as loving as they are?
Is our family as united and happy as hers?
Am I funny enough?
Am I spiritual enough?
Do I care enough?
Do I volunteer enough?
Do I teach enough?
Do I pray enough?
Do I blog enough?
Well, not really.
I'm learning to hear myself when I am beginning to slide down that slope towards "not good enough." I ask myself, "What is enough and who measures it?" "Who is enough and who measures enough-ness anyway?"
When I feel myself pulling out the measuring stick in my heart and mind, I am learning to stop those thoughts, to lay down the weapons of comparison, and let myself rest. I am learning to stop the comparisons. To relax the standards that no one knows about or attempts to live up to but me. In fact, I'm learning to drop my standards, to release them altogether.
I am loved as I am, accepted as I am, welcomed as I am.
Because I am enough already.
You are enough already.
We are all, we are each enough already.
Now I'd better go downstairs and grab a newly sanitized sponge.
I'm not sure the kitchen is clean enough.