When "not enough" is good enough
I’m a busy person. I do a lot of things. I even do a lot of things for other people, including a few for causes that are important to me, my community, and the world. And I always have. So why have I felt so damned lazy? Why have I told myself, it’s never enough?
At first, I thought it was because I was replaying an old soundtrack that I told myself years ago, when I was in an entirely different situation. I used to think I should be one of those people who does more for others, volunteers more, donates more. But I’d spent most of my adult life in chaos: tolerating abusive relationships; struggling as an uneducated, single mother of three; working my butt off as an entrepreneur to provide for my kids; and raising three teens who each had their own challenges, including my son who had significant addiction and mental health problems. Go figure I didn’t have time to volunteer at a soup kitchen! Yet I still volunteered in my kids’ PAC, took sick days off work so I could be a parent monitor on their field trips, and donated both my meager time and money to an extraordinary not-for-profit organization that supported my daughter through the early years of her type 1 diabetes.
At the time, it didn’t seem like I did enough. Now, looking back, I think I was a freakin’ superhero.
Back then, I didn’t know that when life is personally hard, we don’t need to be a hero for anyone else; sometimes surviving is enough. If we don’t feel safe, or are in pain, or in deep grief, it’s our turn to lean on others who can help us to gather strength. There are helpers, and those who need help. We can take our turn at each. We can’t expect to give a lot when our lives are in turmoil. And we can’t expect that of others, either.
Things have been different for a while now. I no longer live in chaos. I’m able to do more, donate more, volunteer more.
But, for the longest time, it still didn’t feel like I was doing enough.
There are just so many crises in our world, it’s overwhelming. And with only so much of me to go around—emotionally, financially, physically—it sometimes felt impossible to make a difference, no matter what I did. And there are so many BIG heroes: people who feed thousands of refugees, grieving mothers who advocate without rest to change deadly drug laws, doctors who work day and night to save life after life. I can’t do what they do.
The temptation is to get a big bowl of popcorn, settle into my comfy chair in front of the TV, and watch the world burn. Or, better yet, read a good murder mystery and pretend the world is a happy place.
Because, what good can I do? I can’t stop a war, or a poisoned drug supply, or a virus.
Maybe not. But something shifted for me a few years ago when I accepted that the world is, and always will be, a beautifully tragic place. There will always be a terrible crisis, people in pain, and systems that need fixing. And there will always be heroes that make the world a better place. The death of my son taught me that good people die, that some problems can’t be fixed, that there’s not always a happy ending. But I look around me and see young people falling in love, babies being born, children laughing—I see a world filled with joy and hope, despite the pain.
Now, I know that it’s not my job to save the world. It’s only my job to save myself, and do my part to help others when I can. And my part, in the scheme of things, is small. So when I begin to feel overwhelmed by there only being one of me, and a whole broken world to fix, I ask myself: What can I do? Can I make one moment of one person’s life better? Can I share a hug and a hot cup of tea with someone who’s cold? Can I donate five dollars to feed one hungry child? And can I repeat that action so it becomes many moments for many people? Of course I can.
We each need to find our own way of making a difference, big or small, in a roar or a whisper. My way is a steady whisper, like an invisible but ever-present breeze.
I no longer worry about doing enough because I know I can’t ever do enough to change the world. Instead, I lean into knowing that what I can do is good enough. For no other reason than it’s simply what I can do.
I focus on small actions. Things that bring warmth and joy to my life, as well as to others. What I do changes depending on what’s going on in my life at any given time. I don’t try to do it all. Sometimes I do a little, and sometimes a little more. But I always try to do something.
Making a list of the ways I can help others gives me ideas when that sneaky voice inside me tries to convince me that I can’t possibly do enough, so why bother. And seeing that list helps me to acknowledge the many ways that I can, and do, give to others. This acknowledgment moves me from feeling like my efforts are “not enough” to knowing that they’re “good enough”.
Try to write your own list—see what you come up with! Here’s mine:
Through writing, I can bring awareness and understanding.
Through kindness and compassion, I can show people love.
Through donations, no matter how small, I can make a difference to someone in need.
Through my acceptance and presence, I can acknowledge and support people.
Through sharing my story, I can help others not feel so alone.
Through volunteering my time, I can support important causes.
Through listening and learning, I can understand other people’s experiences.
Through raising my voice, I can help others find theirs.
It’s just small things, really. Sure, it’s not enough. It will never be enough. But, it’s good enough, because it’s what I can do. And if we all do the small things that we can, together, we might just do enough to change the world. Or at least, a small corner of it.