What is enough?

            The question throws me in a spiral. I get up and sit down again, wandering over long days wondering wondering wondering when will my mind find what it needs? When will I do enough? Is this enough? Am I doing enough? I quit my job in April to find something else. I needed to be my own navigator instead of relying on other ships to save me. I need to build my own ship and be my own captain.

Well, my ship is barely floating. There are holes springing up left and right, and I haven’t quite gotten the skills to fix them yet. I wonder if I will figure this out. I have to figure this out or I’m sinking. I don’t want to jump onto another ship just yet. I want to decide where I’m going. I want to go somewhere. I am getting so much out of building and fixing. I don’t know where all of the holes are coming from or if I have enough material to fix this ship. Water fills up the bottom of the boat, and I am just chucking it out with a bucket as I go, thinking up different solutions to the same problem.

            Some of them work, some of them don’t. I worry that I will never get the boat to maximum capacity. I wonder what that kind of success even looks like. I realize that my boat could look like whatever I want if I’m the one who’s building and driving it. A new question arises then: what’s driving me? And the fact that I’m not totally sure how to answer this question is disconcerting. What is driving me? For now, it’s freedom. The choice to go wherever I want. The freedom is hard won. I have to learn so many things. Most importantly, I have to work. I have to work, as in, I have to show up fully in my capacity. I can’t allow others to do the work for me.

That’s not to say that I am a poster child for some kind of cruel and ignorant individuality. I am surviving only because of the support I have from those who came before me. The blueprints of the ship, the material I’ve gathered, the knowledge that I have that keeps me going, all of it comes from those around me. The fact that I know I can do this is because I see people all around me doing the same thing. We’re all fishing and sailing in the same sea. We’re all creating alongside each other. I am only learning because someone else is figuring it out too, and we’re teaching each other.

We’re all sailing into the unknown. What’s driving me? I can’t give a concrete answer. Something secret drives me, and all I can do is trust. The only way to keep going, to keep reaching for this liberation is to trust.

            I trust that at every moment I will fully show up. I trust that when I do my work, others will do theirs, and most importantly, the universe is doing its own work too. I release responsibility to make everything work. I release the responsibility to make everything work. I trust that it will all work out. I trust that it will all work out. I just have to let go, to let things happen, to let things follow along the glorious and magnificent laws of the universe, that I don’t need to have everything at my fingertips. That I don’t need to have everything, to hold everything, to feel everything. I just need me. I just need to fully show up as me.

            That’s all that’s required of me. Everything else will work itself out. If I do my work, I trust you will do yours, I will do mine, the universe will continue on working unto itself. I trust, I trust, I trust. And as I trust, I will let go. I will finally, finally, find peace. Everything will work itself out. I will let it take its time. I will allow things to unfold. I believe. I will lean into the edges of my growth, into the void of the unknown, the screeching discomfort of something I don’t know, something I’ve never seen the other side of, can’t hear, smell, or taste. What if it all works out? What if it ended the way that it should? What if I held my doubt? What if it all turns out to be good? Release control. Trust in the compassion and great expansion of the universe. Trust in something bigger and more beautiful and more vast than I could ever be. I let go of everything I’m holding. It’s all working out. I’m trusting. I will see the bigger picture when I release all of the shit I’ve pressed up against for comfort. Let the space fill with new and wondrous things. I will see the bigger picture eventually. I release.