Enough

There is this lie I tell myself.

I’m not good enough.

And telling myself this lie holds me back from so many things.

I’m not good enough.

It instills a fear of failure before I’ve even begun a project, a painting, a work presentation, or a piece of writing.

I’m not good enough.

It weaves through my thoughts like the smoke from a campfire, winding upwards and obscuring the trees, the stars, the sky.

I’m not good enough.

It holds me back like a giant fence, too tall to even glimpse what lies just on the other side.

I’m not good enough.

It’s a common refrain in our society and not one unique to me. Sometimes it’s spoken aloud. “I could never make it [on that team, into that performance, on that hike, etc. <<< insert applicable situation here]. And what we are saying each time, time after time, like a mantra for life is

I’m not good enough.

Like all lies, if it’s fed, it GROWS. If you repeat it—aloud or to yourself—it becomes who you are. And if you share it with others, it becomes your reality.

I’m not good enough.

You are swept up in the lie as it spirals into a vortex from which you cannot escape. The lie becomes increasingly powerful, especially as we fight our way through the destructive “keeping up with the Joneses” competition that pervades so much of today’s society.

I’m not good enough.

But with a great deal of work and dedication, we can fight against the tide. Like children creating a whirlpool in a swimming pool, we can shift our thinking… swim in the opposite direction and begin to change the tide through our own thoughts and actions.

ENOUGH!!

It may start as a whisper, and that’s okay. Tape that whisper to the bathroom mirror where you’ll see it all the time. Read it every day and night. Speak it aloud to yourself every time you see it.

I am good enough.

The more you see it and the more you say it, the more convincing you are, the more you will believe it. The more you will know it’s true and the more power the statement will have.

I am good enough.

This statement is your new mantra for life. It’s a mantra that shifts the power back to you.

I am good enough.

The statement spirals down into my very being and expands my soul, pulling me up and out of the shell in which I have been hiding the best of myself. It reimagines the power within me.

I am good enough.

The Joneses have nothing on me now because I don’t need to compete with them or with anyone else. I am enough, and the talents I have make me a unique presence in my circle of friends.

I am good enough.

The wall tumbles down, allowing me to move about the world on my own terms. My limits fall away as I begin to believe in myself once again and in the gifts I possess within my soul.

I am good enough.

What I believe is what I become. Hope is a muscle that can be stretched and strengthened. Dreams can come true. This new mantra is the fuel I need to keep going and keep growing.

I am good enough.

It pushes me forward. It weaves through my thoughts, strong and forceful, opening me up to new possibilities and opportunities that I never even noticed before. I look around and I begin to realize…

I am good enough.

And now that I’ve put in the work to reprogram my thinking, I recognize without question…

I am enough.

Humor, Hope, and Haircuts

My heart is heavy today. I have heard from several students who are in healthcare situations working with COVID patients. These are young adults facing the unthinkable—dire situations that career-long doctors and nurses have never before experienced. I am afraid for them. My heart is breaking for them.

My heart is also breaking for all the people who have tested positive for the virus or who are suffering with it. This morning, I received word that the wife of one of my students has contracted the virus through her daily routine as a medical worker. She is in isolation in a room in their house while he has moved to the basement with their two little girls to keep them safe. I have offered a hand in the form of front door grocery drop-off. It’s all I have to give.

After a month of social distancing, there are hints of hope in discussions about returning to normal. That is one moment of the day. The next moment is heartache in knowing that we are not there yet. In fact, we may be a long way off from “there.” We are HERE, and for now, here has to be enough. Here and hope. Because without hope, what do we have?

HERE, we get through every day with humor. Hope and humor go hand in hand. Jokes and one-liners and pranks. Everyday, there is something to keep me on my toes. We laugh our way through the long, lonely days of house arrest. Because without humor, we would have a boring, socially distanced monotony for a month or two or ten.

And every now and then, something comes up to shake up the routine. Today, I gave my son a haircut. I used to give my boys haircuts back in the early days of single motherhood to save a few dollars. When he started complaining about his hair last week, I checked the bottom drawer of the bathroom vanity, and sure enough, we still had our hair clipper. Today, I gathered all the necessary tools, and I cut his hair. Is it even? Most likely not. Is it shorter? You bet! Will he need another haircut next week? Absolutely. I didn’t want to risk cutting too much off. As I told him, you can always cut more off, but you can’t glue it back on.

For today, something as minor as a haircut improved our mood, gave us hope, and eased the heartache for just a moment. Tomorrow is a new day—a new day for jokes and humor. And a new day for hope. We are HERE, and hope will prevail.

{Photo by Marcelo Silva on Unsplash}