enough

I spent a year letting go

I didn’t try to improve

Or work harder

Or longer

I didn’t go to many conferences

Or trainings

I didn’t speak

Or write

I just sat

Quietly.

I had migraines bad enough that I couldn’t see very much

And so that’s all I could do.

I worked some, but at a very different pace

I let go of pushing

I’d occasionally see posts about friends, and their big plans

New launches, and conferences, and papers

I felt joy for their new adventures

It’s great to be in the phase of growth

And yet I honor that each season has its cycle

Mine has required stillness and restraint

Sometimes trees grow beautiful flowers

Sometimes they sit in majestic silence

I’ve grown this year, in simply being able to value my non-doing self.

Because, who am I, really, if I’m not producing?

At last, I find the answer.

I am

enough.