Enough

Last Thursday night I sat in a circle of women beginning the task of writing. We were at the opening writing session of the Mythic Beings Retreat that I co-facilitate with poet, Caits Meissner. A participant, Jean, had found us via a Google search. I didn't know Jean yet, but I was looking forward to this weekend with her. As we began responding to some of the sample pieces Caits had offered, connecting to our overarching theme, Jean said, "this makes me think of that idea of enough. Am I enough? Is this enough?"

I stayed present for the exchange. Later that night I laid in bed and remembered the silent retreat Kevin and I attended this past January. I was in such awe of what I could realize and resolve when I had the space to not respond. An unexpected mantra that came and stayed with me during that weekend rotated around the word "enough."

I am a picky vegetarian, which is the worst. I wish I wasn't this way and am trying to just be grateful and open to nourishment. Travel has helped soften me. I've realized that I will ignore a growling belly if it means I get to go somewhere great. I've spent many hours and missed meals on buses roaring through some backwoods part of some country that enticed me.

On the silent weekend, meals were taken care of for the participants so we could just meditate and be silent. (Thanks!) The institute's staff rang a gong when it was meal time. They wrote out what was served on a dry erase board so folks could make educated choices based on allergies or preference.

I read that there would be hummus wraps. I silently groaned. (Get it?) And roasted parsnips. Parsnips? There was a farm on-site. I figured they were off loading their stock of winter root veggies.

I tried to talk myself down. "You came here considering that maybe you would fast. If you don't eat this meal it will be fine and was what you originally thought you would do!" Yeah, yeah, I responded to myself. "If you were on a 7-hour bus through the Amazon right now you would totally forgo a meal and happily." This is true.

I stood in line, collected my hummus wrap and parsnips. In case you've never practiced silence for a sustained period of time let me fill you in something: food tastes better. This is real and true. It's because you pay greater attention to it. You are quiet and still and you taste your food. You chew more thoroughly.

Even if I didn't have the help of silence-induced heightened-flavor, the wraps were good. As I ate my wrap I thought, "I want a second but there aren't many. I won't get another! I won't have enough."

The same wraps I rolled my eyes at before I took a bite.

I told myself to eat what was on my plate before trying to hoard all the wraps. I took a bite of parsnips. Yo. Roasted parsnips are delicious! What was I thinking?!

As I went to town on my portion of parsnips I looked up and saw that some fool was taking the last of the parsnips! Again, "I won't get any more! I'm going to be hungry until dinner! I won't have ENOUGH! WAH!"

The beautiful piece of silence is that no one else could hear the absolutely absurd crisis going on in my head. And the gift of silence is that I had to hear it and self-soothe. I kept returning to the rational part of myself, the part that knew I did not need to eat three meals to be OK, that I could fast for some time and be fine (maybe even better for it), and that I had enough.

As I calmed down the chef arrived from the kitchen with a heaping, steaming platter of roasted parsnips.

I was able to get a second helping.

I sat with this experience in meditaton. My panic all revolved around not having enough. I wouldn't have food that I liked or at least not in sufficient quantity. Others had what they needed but not me. The feeling was real but it was not at all based in the reality of that present moment. It was amazing to see that lingering feeling when reality proves that I absolutely, 100% have enough. Why can't I feel that way?

As I meditated that afternoon I breathed in, "I am enough" and breathed out, "This is enough." I realized that scarcity mentality leaked into my experiences. Another meditation retreat was happening during our silent retreat and they took the big exciting meditation room (yes, there can be exciting meditation rooms!) with the towering golden Buddha. I had a slight internal whimper at that realization. "This won't be as great if I can't get enlightened in the impressive room." And then hearing it. Really?

This is enough.

As I remembered how enough my experience was, I encountered unanticipated treasures like a labyrinth and a stone bench hidden in a bamboo grove. More than enough.

I am enough.

The dissatisfaction with everything around me ultimately stems from that relationship to myself. The constant barrage of "I don't do enough, I'm not good enough, I'm not pretty or smart enough, I'm not enough." Even if I don't feel conscious of these thoughts all the time, I catch glimpses of them here and there. As I meditated on "I am enough" it gave me such permission to just be. It gave me such permission to just experience the space and time around me without expectation. It freed me.

I shared this story last Saturday on retreat and acknowledged Jean for reminding me of this moment. It resonated with so many participants. I'm so glad that Jean helped me connect to that teaching because it reminded all of us to free ourselves up to be in the experience we were creating together. The experience of being and having enough.