Words are powerful, even magical. The words I use affect the way I feel. I can feel this most powerfully when I am journaling. When I write words like “effervescent” and “radiant,” my energy starts to flow and I feel as if I am in fact effervescent and radiant. When I write words that have negative charges, though, I feel my energy get heavy and slow.

I am paying attention to the words that feel right and the words that feel “ick!” when I am journaling. I want to use more of the words that lift me up and avoid the words that drag me down. Through journaling, I have discovered a word that is very important to me: Enough.

As a stay at home mom of a preschooler and first grader, I often feel rushed. There is not enough time to do all the things I want to do. Not enough time to exercise! Write! Run errands! Do all the things! I start to gripe – not enough, not enough! – and I get whipped into a frantic frenzy.

Except.

There is enough.

I have enough time to write. Sure, I could easily spend three or four hours each day writing my novel. But whatever I get, that’s enough. (J.K. Rowling got the idea for Harry Potter in 1990, but the first book was not published in 1997. So slow writing might actually be better than fast.)

I have enough time to exercise. Sure, I could do hot yoga every day. But so long as I wear my Fitbit and make an effort to walk, I get enough exercise. (Besides, it’s nice to give my body time to get in shape slowly. If I had time to do vigorous daily exercise, I might blow out my knee.)

I have enough time to read and stretch and paint and snuggle with my kids. If I am conscious and intentional with my time, than I have enough.

The more I pay attention to the word “enough,” the more I see how it resonates with my life.

I have enough money.

Our house is big enough.

I have enough friends. If sometimes I feel a little lonely, then I just need to make more effort to see the friends I already have, and when I see my friends, I need to make the effort to be authentic instead of struggling to be the person I think I am supposed to be.

Enough. Enough. Enough.

If I stop worrying and griping, and really look around at my life, I have enough of all the things I need and want. Right now. This moment. This place. This life. I do not have to hold my breath until Julian is in kindergarten or until Pippa can do homework by herself or until I hit some other mothering milestone. Already I have enough.

It’s amazing how one word can make me feel so alive and blessed.