odd


April 3rd 2006

copyright don oddy

~ not enough ~

As we grow up and form relationships in family and friends and society we find our place, and get recognition for what and who we are. We become known and understood and defined. We make sense of our world and our relationship to it. We find the good and bad in all things. We find our mark.

Some find enough, are enough and feel they have enough. That the world is complete and their place secure.

Many find they have more than enough, more than they can consume of human doings and have choices open beyond their imagination and their desire.

Some feel that there is something missing, never quite sure what it is and uncertain in the knowledge of something missing. Off balance and wondering that not enough of something means they are not enough and not enough is coming their way.

Enough of something missing, misunderstood as emptiness in many ways, often projected in material need or desire and insatiable appetites. And not enough means these appetites grow beyond the realms of normality. Insatiable consumption of anything and everything never filling that need of not enough.

And for those who have enough had enough and never wondered if there was enough, they are bewildered by excess and the drive of never enough.

And when through times of madness of not enough, there is enough time for anyone so captured to reflect it was never ever enough of one thing so free and easily earned. Never and not enough of love.

Mistaken from the beginning and never quite sure, love so far away not quite felt, only its absence as if turned off before it began. To never know how to love, and not enough love so combined produces melancholy so profound it is hard to shake it off and let love inside. To rely on anything but love is preferred and be lost in excess as the world turns and love abounds as far away and near its touch brushed away in case caught. Its loss mourned before first touch and shunned in case breaking down produces a void so great, life is over.

Not enough time for most to recover, and those of us who might find time , understand more than anything acceptance of love and its loss as completely as an ordinary mortal understands to breath, love is so obvious.

Not enough only becomes obvious to the oblivious as time teaches how to grieve and move on, to let go and let in enough of the world to make it go round. Careful with the empty heart as time may fill the void, no more or less than we can stand, perfect in all respects if time permits eyes to open to the wonders of this earth and human kindness lost so often to circumstance and passions spent.





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