During Brene Brown’s ecourse for the Gifts of Imperfections, one of the first tasks entailed writing, “I am enough” on your palm then posting the pic on Instagram with a hashtag bringing us all together in one big enoughness net.


But what does being enough really mean?


I’ve pondered and wrestled with this most of my life in not feeling enough, unworthy of love or belonging. That I needed to do something to somehow circumvent the fact that I am imperfect, that action needed to fill this absence of being as I turned away from myself again and again and again.


After years of hustling to fill the enoughness hole, I’ve settled on the following:


You don’t need to change to be loved. You are just right as you are. You are enough.


You are a perfectly imperfect human. It’s not a flaw but part of the design in being human.


There is no need to perfect anything, as your whole self is more luminous than any self-help quick fix.


Sure there’s personal growth through unfolding of soul, understanding the pulsing spirit within while finding home between the chambers of your heart, the gentle lub dub reminding you that you are alive.


But you are enough exactly as you are.


Hard to believe as this is the opposite of what we’re taught, huh?


While growing up the hoops keep appearing, but no matter how high you soar or how hard you fall, you keep hustling to earn your enough, your recognition of deserving love through accomplishments, accolades and getting it right, self-acceptance and self-worth attained through doing.


But that’s just a bunch of smoke and mirrors keeping you from seeing your brilliant whole self.


The only way I’m ever able to wrap my mind around this enoughness is to think of my daughter.


She’s 7, practically 8 as she tells me, continuing to grow and find her place in this world. She makes mistakes, can be sharp with her emotions, she’ll laze about unhurried to accomplish anything other than what the present moment brings.


But she doesn’t have to do anything to be enough.


She is enough and loved full stop, because she is. It’s her birthright.


The rules aren’t different for you and me.


It’s simply the head having difficulty wrapping around what the heart already knows.


I used to believe perfect equated to enough. Not realizing that there really are gifts in imperfections. The cracks may let your light in, but it also lets my light out.


It’s how we connect, in love and belonging, in being human. How we hold each other in the web of enough.


But life can make it feel different. Because pain and suffering make you feel like you’re doing it wrong. Because you should just float blissfully through life, nothing touching you or disturbing your peace, rather than smack dab in the middle of a ball of messiness.


There are a few for whom this may be true: monks, hermits, and those removed from everyday living can attain such unshakable peace.


However, it remains an ideal for those of us in the midst. But it’s not real. And we need a return to the real. The whole messy imperfect truth of self embraced.


I don’t believe in a life isn’t messy kind of God.


I believe we’re given the mess to help sift fact from fiction, past from present in tunneling through the depths to know your depths.


To meet and greet yourself whole, authentic and vulnerable as your imperfect self.


To unearth the resonance that you are enough.


I am enough.


The more that filters through, pumped from your knowing heart out and into your bones, the more that will be the default feeling overriding years of conditioned belief.


Be patient and kind with yourself with this unlearning. Trust the timing in your life as unfolding of soul expands in the presence of self-compassion.