23 Nov I am Enough from Meg Fahrenbach
I didn’t know what to say, how to tell my story.
I hadn’t had an I-am-enough moment.
Far from it.
My moments seemed to highlight how I am not enough.
I was going to write a letter to myself. The letter was going to be full of apologies. It was going to go something like, “Oh hey, hi. I think I owe you an apology. I haven’t been very forgiving lately…” In that letter I was going to take responsibility for my lack of enough-ness and that in itself would make me enough…
Then one night I was having an I-am-not-enough moment, and he looked me straight in the eye and he said, “Meg.” He said my name, without a hint of humor. He’s usually full of humor; it’s how he copes. I knew this was totally for serious. I stopped everything and looked at him. I tried to just be (be still. Be silent. Be present…) so I could take in what he was saying,
“Meg. You haven’t done anything wrong. You have nothing to apologize for.”
So then I was in the car, and it happened to be one of those magical moments when I was in the car alone.
It was early in the morning, it was dark-turning-light, and the world was covered in a sage-gray frost. It was a Saturday, and it seemed that on that particular Saturday everyone decided to stay home instead of face the chill.
It wasn’t until about 5 minutes into my drive that I realized an incredibly stunning series of events was unfolding in front of me. The sun was waking up, but not in its usual, “I’ll just creep up over the horizon and everything will slowly just get brighter” kind of way. It was more of a, “GOOD MORNING WORLD! I am HERE, I am ALIVE, and I am going to make your day MAGNIFICANT if you are taking the time to watch me RIGHT NOW as I reveal my most INTENSE and SPECTACULARLY GLISTENING and SHIMMERING sunrise of ALL TIIIIIIIIIIIME!!!”
My mouth may have dropped open at that point. It is also possible that I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed how the sun was touching the frost on the road and on the grass and on the branches and leaves, and how everything (EV.REE.THING) was glistening and warm and being bathed in this supreme sunrise.
Then I got my head on my shoulders because I was doing about 75mph down the parkway, and even the magic of that sunrise wasn’t going to protect me from an accident. Let’s be realistic. It’s New Jersey.
So, as I paid attention to the motorists around me, I let the magic surround me. I allowed myself to be present, as I journeyed out into the world to capture moments, camera in hand (well… on the passenger seat. I’m on the Parkway, remember?) I put on Jonsi, and it all made sense as the music melded with the warm morning light and the nearly empty highway.
In only a way that Jonsi can, he sang,
Go sing, too loud
Make your voice break- Sing it out
Go scream, do shout
Make an earthquake…
Go drum, too proud
Make your hands ache – Play it out
Go march through crowds
Make your day break…
You wish surprise would never stop wonders
You wish sunrise would never fall under
We should always know that we can do anything
And his words! They lift your spirits high. I began to think that he’s on to something. Yes! Yes! I should! I should live my life with such vigor and enthusiasm that every day should bend and break from the… magnitude of it all. I really should stop taking myself so seriously. I am enough… what I am. Its enough.
Then two days later I spent time with my girls in the backyard. We cut out a heart in the blanket of leaves. We used fallen sticks and swords and we “yo-ho-ho”ed ourselves through our adventures. We put on silly sunglasses and we inhaled fully. We played until our noses were running and our fingers were cold and red, numb against the bark of our branches. Our lungs felt sharp from inhaling the crisp air.
We were invigorated.
I’m sure these memories will fade over time, but the feeling that I was left with will not.
I’ve always known that I am enough for my husband and my children, but now I know that I am enough for me too.
I think that I’d forgotten. But then the sun rose, the base kicked in, his words encouraged little parts of me to resurface…
And I understood.
I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t have anything to apologize for. I am enough.
About Meg Fahrenbach
Meg Fahrenbach is a full time mom, wife, and fun haver. All of her “extra” time is spent as professional photographer and contributing artist to Getty Images, sample knitter, blogger, and avid reader. Her dreams consist of traveling to Paris, as well as having her images and writings published. She is very good at making her dreams become reality.