Some questions don’t really have answers. They just sit quietly underneath the way we live our lives.
Enough
How many is enough
likes
or posts
or hours of swiping
maybe just another search
or click
perhaps one more chat
one more DM to answer
maybe just checking my phone
one more time
one more rewrite
of that email
when is enough
clicking and texting
enough?
How much is enough
money
or stuff
or boxes on my doorstep
maybe just another pair of shoes
perhaps more clothes
or jewelry
one more bottle
of perfume
or lotion
when are enough things
enough?
How high up the ladder
is high enough
or title
or meetings
that could be emails
maybe just one more year
of grinding
perhaps another office
or bonus
one more stock grant
one more set of options
how much work
is enough?
How much self-worth
is enough
or esteem
or resilience
to the pain
and the trauma
maybe just piece it
back together again
perhaps hold on
to yourself
one more time
rise from the ashes
how much of being enough
is enough?
How much lost love
is enough
or pain
or expectations
that were never met
maybe just one more round
of false hope
perhaps open your heart
again
one more great love
another friend
how much heartbreak
is enough?
how much is enough?
maybe enough
was never something
we were meant
to measure
If this question has ever crossed your mind, I’d love to hear your thoughts. When did you realize the chase for “enough” might never actually end?