Being Is Enough

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Recently I’ve been feeling the urge to do something more meaningful, work towards something that means something, help people, and maybe pass on some of the knowledge that I’ve acquired in the past three decades of living in this skin, skin that is patching and flaking as the temperatures creep dow below zero.

I was so eager to find some answers that I went on a spiritual quest, a meditation retreat deep in the forest of Brandenburg. Instead of getting some life changing shake up, I got the following message from my psyche, ancestors, or higher self.

That being is enough. 

I know it sounds trite, a pithy quote you’d contemplate double tapping before giving up and continuing your endless scroll through the gram. 

But hear me out. 

My essence, what makes me, “me” probably has lot to do with my life experiences, the people/souls who have crossed my path in the mean time, my place of birth and economic status of my parents. But strip all that away and what’s left? A clever little girl desperately trying to make sense of her place in the world before ever having the word count to do so.

Before we memorised the meanings of long drawn out vocabulary words and crammed for the SATs, we felt. Our little bodies may not have been able to express verbally what we experienced in the world around us, but we sure felt it. And so on my spiritual quest, I was introduced to this inner cutie pie, myself as a small child. A curious, wide eyed, soul who is highly sensitive, has a particular aversion of being in trouble, who is incredibly shy and suspicious of others while also needing to belong and feel included and safe. If she felt safe, her true self would shine. Her cheeky nature came through. She was a dancer on tables, a player of house, a tender mother of several baby dolls, a Polly Pocket consultant and a fine Lincoln Log architect. Sure, some of the traits I displayed then were inherited and acquired, but I’m more interested in what those sum of parts represent, for they are the core of me. 

I believe in soul mates. I believe that my friends have danced with me in many lifetimes. I’m not so concerned with this physical body, though I am eternally grateful for this vessel, a vehicle of change, hope, love, expression, acceptance, and fierceness. But it’s the essence that I seek to protect while at the same time making sure that it shines bright regardless of the external forces working against me. Every day I want to work towards letting my essence come out and play, I long for deep belly laughs, the ones that drop a few octaves deeper than my normal speaking voice, singing for no reason while riding my bike haphazardly on the sidewalk, and dancing in the supermarket when I’m scouring the spice aisle for Kreuzkümmel. I want to cook for my friends and support their endeavours by showing up, applauding, giving them a squeeze afterward and sending them lots of emojis with kissy faces expressing how proud of them I am. Because I am. I want to wear my heart on my sleeve and express my deepest feelings no matter how scary it feels or inappropriate the timing is. I want to love deeply and richly and go ALL in, in ALL of my relationships while letting go of ALL my expectations.

I now know that being is enough. My friends don’t love me because of my tall lanky frame, wide hips or stringy hair. My partner doesn’t love me because of how many clients I have, how much money’s in my bank account or that I have a passion for writing sassy articles about periods. They love me because of my childlike essence. The silly, sweet, thoughtful cutie pie whose face lights up when a dog is nearby. And I should love myself for that reason too. For I am enough. Being is enough.


Like this story? Thank Nicole.