Introspections & Retrospections

Enough

I stared at the unedited draft of this particular blog post. Is this enough? I check and recheck my remaining balance, my pathetic budget for the next few days. Would it be enough?

I look at the mirror, this sad reflection of who I am now, juxtaposed upon that imaginary person who I thought I was and should have been. Am I not good enough? Will I ever be enough?

Contradicting thoughts circle each other, like wary gladiators. Hope versus depression. Lessons versus defeat. Faith versus reality. Promises versus concerns. Commitments versus enjoying the seeming randomness of life. Solitude versus this aching desire for companionship. Crying versus putting up a brave face just to get through the day. Trying to trust someone over and over again versus the stubborn nature of human behavior patterns.

But enough of it all. I’ve had enough.

Enough. Of this. Of that. Of everything. Of nothing. Of something. Of anything. Of all things enough and not so much. Am I merely exasperated? Am I simply giving up? Is this what it means to let go? Or am I just learning to hold on, be more determined and focused beyond what’s ahead of me?

Why is it sometimes so hard to tell when something, anything is already enough? And why is there so much difference between having enough, or to have had enough?

But there’s not enough: of time, of words, of thoughts, of feelings— even when it freely flows. Even when we realize there’s an abundance of it all, still, it’s never enough.

Enough. I’m tired of this.

Enough. I’m bored.

Enough. I’m getting irritated.

Enough. I need to eat.

Enough. Before I lose control.

Enough. Before I say something else.

Enough. Because I want you too much.

Enough. Because I’ll never be enough.

Was it enough? I’ve had enough. Would it ever be enough? This should be enough. Enough of this! Didn’t you had enough?! Could there be enough? Are you kind enough?

Enough, a steep cliff where we all are cornered to— and we have to decide whether we turn around and face what’s pursuing us, or jump off the edge.

Enough, a crossroad that’s fast approaching when you can’t stop or even slow down the car— and you have to make a turn, either way, or crash.

I’ve used the word enough too much, but still, it’s not enough. Maybe I’ve loved enough— enough to break my own heart. But maybe I haven’t loved enough to give each broken piece away. Maybe I’ve held on to pride enough— enough to make me lose sight of everyone else. But maybe I’ve lost sight of my own self, forgotten to hold on to my own self-respect.

E N O U G H .

What does it really mean— to be something enough?

Enough: the anathema of man’s insatiable quest for satisfaction. Enough: the threshold of contentment. Enough: which silences the whisper. Enough: which casts pride down to the ground. Enough: which reminds greed of how much our pockets could only keep. Enough: which withholds a second serving from gluttony. Enough: that averts our heart and imagination from lust. Enough: that shuts our eyes from envy. Enough: that kicks us awake from sloth. Enough: that calms us from releasing wrath.

Enough. A word of both indecision and determination, of certainty and ambiguity. How much water is enough, one asks? One glass, you’d say— and end up still thirsty after emptying a bottle. Yet, one drop is enough when you believe it so. And so it is with our blessings— God’s grace, when we pray for what’s enough, even when our hearts long for more.

Will it ever be enough— having all these things precious yet trivial; all these wonders and beauties that are never meant to last; stuff that we try to hoard, collect, put on display? Will there ever be enough of happy memories in a world full of painful reminders? Will there be enough smiles when teardrops never cease to rain?  Will there be enough hope against an ever-growing pile of unresolved sighs? Will there be enough kindness, not just for someone or dear ones, but for everyone— even those who don’t deserve it? Will there be enough of you, of us, to fill the empty spaces where our unheard cries echo endlessly?

Would you be enough? Will you stay long enough?

Tell me— have I said enough?

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