“Ça Suffit,” as the French say, either politely muttered “that’s enough” when offered quantities, or yelled “Enough!” at kids to stop fidgeting.
“Ça Suffit,” I say after last weekend. This is enough. My apartment, San Francisco, my hobbies, my friends, my activities, my goals, my struggles, my wanders, these are enough for my little life. I’ve spent so much time recently wondering whether I could move somewhere else. If I just relocated to Portland, I could have a yard with a workshop and a car in the driveway. If I moved to Berlin, I could tour Europe and meet more interesting people. If I had that management job, I could finally feel fulfilled with career. If I met the right partner, I would no longer feel so lonely.
Ça Suffit. Portland might be boring and without much work opportunity, Europe would mean restarting a stranger in a strange land, managizing can require long hours and tedious interpersonal conflict resolution, and dating – well dating – has its own navigating of a two-body problem. The grass certainly looks green over the fence, but I’m liking grazing this meadow.
Ça Suffit. I have so many projects ahead that fascinate me. The upcoming job looks daunting and fulfilling. I’ll continue to fall and get up with friendships and dates. I may just not work well at partnerships. I’m happy enough here. (of course that may change by the end of this week). I’ll keep grazing.