Enough

The young boy played in the sand box. He spent all day making a sand castle, crafting it so that it was grander than all the other children’s sand castles. He ran to his mother, grabbed her by the hand, and dragged her over to the play area.

 

“What do you think of it mother?” the boy said.

 

The mother looked for a good while, paused, and said “Enough”.

The boy put his head down, sad and disappointed, and walked away.

 

The young boy was at school. He partook in a speaking competition in front of the entire school, all the teachers and students. He won first prize and took a photo on stage.

Afterward he came down from the crowd and sought out his mother, presenting his award to her.

“What do you think of it mother?” the boy said.

 

The mother looked for a good while, paused, and said “Enough”.

The boy put his head down, sad and disappointed, and walked away.

 

The boy became a young man. And the young man felt that he liked other young men, rather than the other young ladies who vied for his attention. So he brought a fine young man home and presented him to his mother.

“What do you think mother?” The young man asked.

 

The mother looked for a good while, paused, and said “Enough”.

The young man put his head down, sad and disappointed, and walked away.

 

So a short time later the young man found a young lady instead. She was the most beautiful and more importantly, the most coveted young lady going round. The young man, convinced of his love for her, finally brought her home to be presented to his mother.

“What do you think mother?” The young man asked.

 

The mother looked for a good while, paused, and said “Enough”.

The young man put his head down, sad and disappointed, and walked away.

 

But this time the young man was so broken that he didn’t just walk away. He ran away. He flew away. He fled to the other side of the country.

 

He worked hard, he started and grew companies. He wrote books and gave TED Talks. He married a fine wife and had several fine children. One day, finally having become the fullest a man he could have become, he sent a note to his mother, inviting her to visit.

 

The mother came and visited, meeting her daughter-in-law and her grandchildren. Seeing and inspecting her son’s companies, books and beautiful modern home. She looked around and wrinkled her nose.

“What do you think mother?” he asked her.

 

The mother looked for a good while, paused, and said “Enough”.

And the man, sad and disappointed, asked her to leave. To walk away.

 

Many years later, the mother had grown old and frail.

She’d grown weak and unable to breathe unsupported. She’d grown unable to go on.

 

The son came to visit, sitting beside her, the weak and frail old figure. He looked at her helpless, lifeless body, struggling with each and every breath.

 

“Maybe now mother” the young man began, “you can tell me why nothing I ever did was good enough for you. Why no matter how good I was, you never seemed pleased with me.” The young man put his head in his hands and began to weep.

 

He looked up again. “What was it that I had to do?”

 

The mother looked for a good while. She paused. Then she summoned a breath, drawing on all her willpower.

The son held his, head drawing back in anticipation…

 

“Enough”.

 

The son sat back in his chair, dropping limp. His will was broken.

“I know mother. Enough trying.”

 

The mother gently shook her head, and murmured… “No”.

She reached up with a feeble arm and lowered her breathing mask.

 

“You are enough. You were enough when you made all your accomplishments. You were enough when you brought home a young lady and you were enough when you brought home a young man. You were enough when you spoke, and you were enough when you played in the sand”.

 

But the mother continued.

 

“But you were not enough because of your accomplishments, your partners, your words or your creations. You were enough without doing those things. You were enough just by being you”.

The mother, now growing even weaker, reached out and gently held her son’s arm.

“My son, you were always enough. Just the way you were. My perfect little boy”.

 

Dedicated to a few close friends of mine who helped me realise the importance of this message, and, dedicated to the small part of myself that still, even now, does not recognise that I am, and always have been, enough.