A year of care, and a year of enough.

If 2014 is my year of care, it’s also my year of enough (see http://www.theunlost.com for information on the Year of Enough). The care bit’s a mixed bag – I think that true, soul-deep self-care is one of the more difficult things I could have aspired to – but I’m also focusing on this year as a year of enough.

I don’t mean enough as in: Oh well, that’ll do. It’s not a year of settling for less, of being comfortable in mediocrity, of doing less than my best. It’s not a year for compromising my integrity and my skills and my self; it’s not a year for making and accepting excuses for why I can’t do it, why I will be happy in simply not trying. Why I will let me weakness determine how I will or will not be, how I will or will not live my life.

It’s not a year for making demands, either. It’s not a year in which I will reach beyond my capacities for the unimportant and unachievable, for the unattainable. It’s not a year for dinging my worth in the idea of more: more achievement, more skill, more learning. More money and more possessions. More busyness, more responsibility and importance. More, more, more. More is great, and important, but the problem is that if you’re always focusing on what more you want, you forget that, so often, you actually have enough.

Which I not to say that I don’t want more: if my aspirations die then so do I. I want to work to meet my potential: as a social worker, as a chorister and singer, as a person of faith, as a friend, as a creative force, as a creature of the Creator. And then I want that to be enough.

Choir went back today – the first choral Eucharist of the year. And my hands shook because that’s what they do when I sing, and for a while there wasn’t enough air in the Cathedral to penetrate the writhing anxiety screaming silently behind my sternum and up into my throat. And in that I sang fairly well-ish and at times quite badly, but I got through it and I put all my self into it, and I did my best and I wasn’t perfect but my best was enough. My best was enough for the choir and it was enough for the Creator to Which we sang, and now all I need to do is let it be enough for me.

Like my year of care, my year of enough will be a work in progress. It will be hard, and I’ll screw it up, and undermine myself, and if I’m lucky it will get easier with practise and habit. It will be hard, but I’ll do my best – and that’s just going to have to be enough.

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