I don't want more. I want enough.
Enough is the wealth of experience over things.
Enough is the stuff in your pack that doesn't weigh you down but gives you freedom, both physical and mental.
Enough is the set of commitments that stretch you just far enough to be uncomfortable but not so far to break you down.
Enough is downtime, margin, and space.
Enough is understanding what you do and do not know.
Enough is that careful meal where you savor every bite, sip the wine slowly, and let the evening deepen like someone settling into the groove of a hammock.
Enough is the moment of reading before bed where the words become hazy and forgetable and you tumble softly into sleep.
Enough is the amount of rest so that in the morning you smoothly greet the day, stepping carefully from dreaming to wakefulness.
Enough is the facial dance of a newborn finding his place in the world.
Enough is the breath, an ever-present tool of awareness.
Enough is the gentle insight that I am sufficient.
Enough is enough.