I've had enough of working. It's not fun any more.
But do I have enough money to retire?
Who knows?
Somehow the following poem sums up my mood today.
Enough
Enough. These few words are enough.
If not these words, this breath.
If not this breath, this sitting here.
This opening to the life
we have refused
again and again
until now.
Until now.
David Whyte, Where Many Rivers Meet
