I feel very strongly about improving myself and the planet and the Earth and society. About leaving things better than how they were found, doing the least bad and the most good. I tend to introspect and reflect and notice flaws and shortcomings and errors and every last wiggle room for improvement.
And it’s exhausting. I’m tired. I’m worn and tattered from not being enough for myself. From not allowing others be enough either. At what point can we call it good? Good enough. Good enough to rest. Good enough to look inward and be satisfied. To look outward and be fulfilled.
Just as I am is plenty. Enough. More than enough. Bountiful. Abundant. Overflowing. Perfect. I’m no project, no art nor craft. I’m good as is, there’s no assembly required.