But when is it enough?
Today I want to write about the concept of "enough."
One of my favourite times of year in high school + college was the break you'd get after exams were over. I liked it even more than March break because for a brief pocket of time there weren't any academic expectations of me.
I live in a pretty constant state of feeling like what I'm doing isn't "enough."
There aren't enough hours in the day to do all the writing, all the meal prep, all the quality time with my kids, all of the client work, all of the cleaning...the list goes on. And on. Ad nauseum.
(Literally — one of my major anxiety markers is nausea and barfing. Isn't that a fun fact you didn't expect to learn about me today!)
My therapist wrote a post-it note for me after a session one day, and it said:
I am doing my best and that's enough.
No matter how many times I've deconstructed the way I've spent my hours, I end up coming to the same conclusion: I did my best.
I may not have gotten the "most optimal" result (i.e. likely an unrealistic expectation) but wherever I am at right now is in fact the result of doing my best.
The thing is, as much as I can have trouble with the concept of "enough" on the being-hard-on-myself side of things...I can also have trouble with "enough" on the fun side of things.
My general way of thinking is like...if a little of this is good, then more must be better.
Spoiler alert: it's not. Especially if I'm Sonesing (YES I'M HILARIOUS) for a 3rd or 4th glass of wine.
The first glass is a treat, the second makes everything wonderful and warm...and that's when I am best to stop. Because with a 3rd comes disrupted sleep and by 4 you can bet I'll be hanging over the next day.
Don't get me wrong — those consequences are sometimes very, very worth it. But I have to reign in the side of myself that says "This is great, you know what would be even better..." when she comes knocking on, say, a Wednesday night.
Where this really starts to get murky is when I'm trying to rein in something that is "good" for me.
Setting a boundary around too many drinks on a weeknight is common sense. But what about when it's something like getting back into an exercise habit? Or helping other people when they ask? Or going out of your way to make the lives of the people around you easier?
How do we know what "enough" looks like when it seems "obvious" that more should be better.
Isn't giving more a good thing?
Only if you're giving from a place of abundance; not just "enough" but from having extra to share — and that's true of your energy, your money, your time, and more.
But I think it's also true in terms of the intention we bring to our actions.
When I was slogging through the worst of PPD, the prospect of getting to the gym required more than I was capable of. As someone who grew up playing sports and considered movement as essential as breathing...not working out or moving my body was abnormal.
When my drive to workout came back, I was elated — and I wanted to be in the gym every day. It felt so damn good to sweat my feelings once again; you have to feel it to heal it and exercise is one of the best ways to make that happen.
That's where my relationship with movement exists when it's in a healthy space.
When I work out, I end up eating healthier and sleeping better and drinking more water and doing all the things that are good for me because it's what my body craves.
Taking care of my body also had some really great practical results — my mental focus sharpened, my sex drive started coming back, and I have a much longer fuse when it comes to dealing with my kids.
And that's great. But.
That doesn't meant that it's healthy for me to be at the gym for 2 hours per day, 7 days a week. Or that I need to be counting calories and limiting my intake. Or that I can never enjoy a beer or bread or any sugar ever or whatever all-or-nothing mindset is being marketed to me for the sake of wellness — cleaner and leaner, right?
Because I know that's what my all-in personality can start to do.
In the same way, it's easy to prioritize the needs of others over your own because it's the nice, and giving, and self-sacrificial way to be and isn't that what moms are supposed to do?
So what if you didn't get to go to the yoga class you'd been looking forward to because it was a restorative one (aka intermittent napping) and you'd been up all night with a teething baby...your friend really just needed your shoulder to cry on about the asshole they're dating. Or not dating. Again. It's hard to know.
But are you really going to be present for them while you're also secretly resenting the fact that they "need" you? Are you showing up for them because you want to or because you feel like you have to or else they'll think you're a crappy friend?
And how often are you putting their needs ahead of your own?
Are you acting from love and abundance, or fear and scarcity? 🤔
Until the whole global pandemic hit, I had made it a habit to go to the gym just about every day after daycare drop-off. I committed to a block of time no-matter-what, even if it meant writing a bit less or working in the evenings and on weekends.
I chose a strategic imbalance so that I could incorporate a habit that was important to me; one that helps me to show up in my life in a more meaningful way for myself and for the people around me.
Because it served a greater good, the boundaries I set around my time to go to the gym were pretty rigid.
Taking care of my Self had to be my priority → It was the only way for me to make it through the clusterfork of the last month with any sanity remaining. But now, it’s time to find a bit more balance.
And how do I know if I'm leaving the territory of "enough" and heading towards imbalance?
By checking my intention.
When it comes to my productivity compulsion — whether it's cleaning my house or going to the gym — I have to pause to check-in and ask myself why I feel like the action I'm about to take is so urgent, and why it has to take precedent.
→ Am I cleaning my house because I love the feeling of relaxing into a beautiful space (and I love how ours is coming together!) or because someone is coming over and I worry that they'll judge me for the piles of dishes and laundry.
→ Am I going to the gym because I love feeling strong and connected to my body, or because I'm secretly worried that missing even one day will magically make me return to feeling the way I did at my worst — exhausted, ill-tempered, and disembodied?
When I get to the root of my compulsion — the voice that tells me what I should be doing to be a better version of myself — I can usually logic my way back to some degree of balance.
I have proof that I've been making movement a priority and a regular part of my routine, because I've been tracking it → I am super lazy energy efficient when it comes to things like tracking data, so I am obsessed with my FitBit.
It tells me that I've been consistently on track for 5/7 days of movement per week, and I'm hitting my step goals most days...so theoretically, I can relax my hold around that time just a little bit.
That means that today, instead of going straight to the gym, I came home and sat down to write. Because honing my craft is as important as toning my body, and the gym will be there tomorrow.
As Momma Grace always says: Everything in moderation, even moderation.
Sometimes it's worth the extra glass or two of wine for the sake of connection and belly laughs with friends.
Sometimes you'll go out of your way to help someone you love because they're going through an especially rough pocket.
Sometimes you carve out a little more time to take care of yourself because you've gone through an especially rough pocket.
No one knows why you do the things you do, other than you.
So in terms of setting boundaries around what "enough" looks like...
Only you can decide that, my friend.
You just have to be willing to be honest with yourself and why you're doing the things you're doing.
Simple, right? 🙃