doing enough is never enough

there will always be more finish lines

How lucky am I to be passionate. Let me get that out of the way first.

I have lived my life with the blessing, and the curse, that every fiber of my being longs to be an artist. A dramatic statement, but it’s true. My mind is constantly searching for the next outlet or avenue to create. It’s a function I can’t just turn off.

The positive of this is that I am always pushing myself to create more, do better, think bigger. The negative— it’s never enough.

In a culture built on outdoing yourself and creating the next big thing, there rarely leaves room for something to just exist as it is. Anything we produce needs to be better than before or bigger than the last time. And if it isn’t? Well, then what’s the point?

How can I create something to just exist? Maybe it’s my own fault for monetizing every dream I have ever had, but can you blame me? From far away, a life of being paid for your art seems idyllic. As you get closer you can feel it, even taste it, and it tastes so sweet. Then you arrive and, at first, it’s everything you ever wanted.

You finally made it past the finish line, only to look ahead and realize the road ahead is filled with… wait, what is that?… one hundred more finish lines???

That’s okay. You think to yourself. No sweat. I have trained my whole life for this.

So you muster up all the brain power and courage and skill you have, and continue down the winding road. Finish line after finish line, you feel the highs, the lows, the challenges, the wins. You feel free because it’s a path created specifically for you. You feel confined because there are signs everywhere saying that if you don’t take the path fast enough, it will disappear. You feel all of it.

Finally, exhausted and shaky, you reach the hundredth finish line.

As your heel crosses the line and your waist breaks the tape, the rest of your body breaths a sigh of relief. You did it. Everyone you know is there. Your friends and family are cheering. Thousands of strangers show their support. Champagne bottles are popping. You feel on top of the world. It was all worth it.

As you walk further across the finish line, you see your mom, your best friend, your neighbor, an acquaintance from college, even your first grade teacher… it’s everyone. As the crowd starts to clear and the masses start to leave, the road ahead starts to become more visible and you come to a shocking realization.

The road doesn’t end.

There are one hundred more finish lines.

It will never be enough.

But will it never be enough for you, or for everyone else?

The concept of enough, or more-so the lack of it, is something I have recently come to terms with after living a life solely funded by my own creative endeavors for the past three years. There is endless possibility unlike anything I have ever imagined, but with endless possibility also means an endless amounts of work. There is no stopping point. There could always be more.

I’m not writing from a place of discouragement, but from a place of hope. I want to wrap this piece up in a neat little bow and tell you what I’ve learned, but the reality is I can’t because I’m still navigating it.

I can acknowledge that I feel like I am not doing enough and understand why, but I will never be able to stop those feelings from coming up completely. So instead, I am focusing on my mindset. Yes, it’s frustrating that there is always more to be done, but I am grateful to love something enough to let it keep growing. And I want to continue to grow from a place of abundance instead of lack.

I will spend the rest of my life trying to achieve more, and that isn’t necessarily bad. Some of my best work has come from a societal (and personal) pressure to grow. But I also am going to try to grant myself the grace to also create things for the sake of just existing. Not everything has to be the next best thing. Some things can just be.

If I was never allowed to share my art with others again, would I still create it? And if no one ever saw it, would it feel like enough?

I want to repeat it again, how lucky am I to be passionate. I cannot picture a world without passion. Without wanting something so bad it hurts. Without needing to do every single thing in your power to achieve your goals to the point that it keeps you up at night. How lucky am I that there is no finish line. How lucky am I that dreams can be endless. Doing “enough” might never feel like enough. But doing nothing at all, well, that is way worse.

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