Enough Was the Dream All Along

Gosh...where is all this nostalgia coming from? Am I in a sentimental state of mind?  Perhaps it was a recent phone visit with my very favorite uncle....Funny how one conversation can open a hundred little doors in your heart....

A facebook friend posted this writing yesterday on her facebook page.... Thought it was worth sharing....

 Your great-grandmother was not trying to manifest a beach vacation. She was not curating an aesthetic. She was not optimizing...anything. She had a list, and the list was short, and the list was sacred.

A full pantry. Healthy children. A roof that did not leak. A husband who came home. A garden that produced. A few good dresses. A reliable stove. Sunday dinner with people she loved. Enough flour for the week and enough kindness for the neighbors.

That was the whole dream. That was the whole life. And by the standards of most of human history, achieving that list was a roaring success.

Then the twentieth century happened, and somebody figured out that a woman who is content is terrible for business. A woman with a full pantry is not running to the store. A woman who is satisfied with her kitchen is not redoing it every four years. A woman who knows what enough looks like cannot be sold the next thing.

So they got to work. They made the small house embarrassing. They made the old car embarrassing. They made the home-cooked meal embarrassing, and then when nobody knew how to cook anymore they sold it back as a meal kit with a celebrity chef on the box. They raised the cost of living until both parents had to work, and then they sold daycare and convenience food and weekend therapy to fix the exhaustion that working both jobs created in the first place.

They took your great-grandmother's list and called it poverty. They took her life and called it limited. They took her contentment and called it a lack of ambition.

And then they sold you ambition. They sold you a bigger house you cannot clean, a car you cannot pay off, a wardrobe you do not wear, a calendar you cannot survive, and a vague constant feeling that you are still falling behind.

You are not falling behind. You are running a race that was designed to have no finish line. The race itself is the product.

Go back and read her list.

author unknown:

 Before life became a race to have more, our grandmothers and great-grandmothers often measured wealth in much simpler ways. A stocked pantry, children who were healthy, a home filled with love, a garden that fed the family, and neighbors who could count on one another—that was a life well lived. 

Somewhere along the way, we were taught that “enough” wasn’t enough. Bigger became better, busier became admirable, and contentment somehow became mistaken for settling. But perhaps true abundance has never been found in owning more. Maybe it’s found in gathering around the dinner table, baking bread in a familiar kitchen, hearing laughter echo through the house, and ending the day with a grateful heart.

How beautifully freeing it is to realize that the richest life may not be the one with the most things—but the one with the most peace. 🌿💛