Enough (Chocolate Cake?)
I’ve come to the idea of enough through my journey of discontent. I’ve been lucky or unlucky, however you choose to view it, to get many of the things, my younger self desired. What is the Emerson quote “Wherever you go, there you are.” As I see it, I was lucky to waste a lot of time “getting more” of the things that I was led to believe were going to make me happy—was I led into it or did I pursue? Even this I’m unsure of. Either way, the pursuit has been constant. One of the constants of this pursuits is that there can never be to much of the good stuff.
This brings me to chocolate cake. My two sons, who are very different in all sorts of ways, regularly do something that stuns me. Last week, on my son’s birthday, we had cake. Not just ANY cake, but good cake—fresh chocolate mousse cake with ice cream. In fact, I barely tasted it, I ate it so fast.
Both my sons, really enjoy the cake as well. But, at a certain point, one of them almost certainly will say, “I’m all done… I don’t want any more.” As someone who has never let a good chocolate cake go to waste, I’m always surprised. Who are these alien boys? Truth be told, half the genetic line comes from my husband, the alien king of moderation, but it consistently reminds me that I once, too, probably knew what enough was.
Yet, there it is, half eaten, albeit thoroughly enjoyed cake with ice cream. I actually have to fight my instinct (my youngest of eight, never enough instinct), to not “clean” the bowls.
How do they do it? Is that what I used to do? Is that instinct even in me now? I don’t mean the Puritan instinct to not have any, or to stop indulging in a taste. I mean a real sense of enough, as in this is the perfect amount for my enjoyment, as in, I am content at this moment.
I think it is in there somewhere. But unlearning the habits of excess and denial will take some work.