It’s Still Not Enough

I’m having one of those mornings. It’s the perfect Fall morning. Cool, a little dim, no more gnats on my balcony. Quiet enough that I can hear all of my thoughts with the faint sounds of the city barely making it through my cracked windows.

But it isn’t enough.

I woke up thinking about writing, thinking about the words I’d put together today. Thinking about how people would react to these words; how many people would react to these words. I woke up feeling hungry for acknowledgement, thirsty for recognition. This is my weakness.

I’m growing comfortable with the fact that very few things make me happy. My daughter is at her grandmother’s for the weekend so even less now. I’ve grown so much over the past couple years. Learned to appreciate all that is already happening. All that has already happened.

“Celebrate my victories. Live in the moment. Be present.” I’ve echoed variations of this since I became aware of the feeling of wanting so much more. Since I’ve known that I’m capable of so much more. Yet I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m still waiting. This is my weakness.

I bow my head and tell the universe that I’m ready. Once a day, twice a day, sometimes more. I fold my hands and tell the universe that I am grateful. That I am thankful for all it has given me, for proving again and again that it has genie like powers beyond comprehension.

But it still isn’t enough.

I’m wondering what it would take for me to feel completely fulfilled. For me to open my eyes and feel satisfied with who I am. This is difficult because who I am and what I do for a living are so connected. It’s like being a father. I’ve been one for the last 14 years, was preparing to be one in the years up to that moment, and there is nothing that can ever happen to stop me from ever being a parent.

There is nothing that can ever happen that will stop me from being a writer.

This is my strength.

Wanting to be appreciated as the best. This is my weakness. Wanting to be compensated as the best. This is my weakness. Yet I tell everyone that I have no insecurities.

Which is true for the most part. Except that my ambition makes it hard to ever feel complacent. To ever see what has already happened. What is happening right now.

Yet I already know what’s going to happen. In my heart, in my mind, in my subconscious, I know exactly how my life will go. I have taken control of my destiny because it’s OK to know. Why I’m not there yet is the source of my frustration. My weakness.

Waiting is my weakness. Impatience is my weakness. Vision is my strength. How do I reconcile those?

Will today be the day? Tomorrow, maybe? Knowing what’s going to happen without knowing when is enough to fold me into a ball of anxiety on the edge of my bed. Enough to keep me up much later than I need to be doing nothing I’m supposed to be.

I’m having one of those mornings. Wondering if it will ever be enough.


Thank you for listening…
For more of my musings, read my novella “THOUGHTS OF A FRACTURED SOUL.”