How much is enough?

I suppose the biggest factor in determining how much is enough is what you are talking about: ice cream, torture, love, wealth, peace, homework, grace. Here’s the dictionary definition for you.

enough (ɪˈnʌf)

— determiner
1. a. sufficient to answer a need, demand, supposition, or requirement; adequate: enough cake
b. ( as pronoun ): enough is now known
2. that’s enough! that will do: used to put an end to an action, speech, performance, etc

— adv
3. so as to be adequate or sufficient; as much as necessary: you have worked hard enough
4. ( not used with a negative ) very or quite; rather: she was pleased enough to see me
5. (intensifier): oddly enough ; surprisingly enough
6. just adequately; tolerably: he did it well enough

Sometimes you know you’ve had enough when you want no more, but other times enough is a little harder to measure.

Why isn’t knowing what’s right enough to cause us to make the right decision? Usually it’s because we let our emotions override what we know. We struggle with our own selfish desires and thoughts and we try to fill emotional holes with what we want instead of  what we need or doing what we know is right. Sooner or later what we know just doesn’t matter anymore and we run full-steam ahead doing what we want and disregarding what is right.

Sooner or later we experience enough of the consequences of our behavior (or someone else’s) that we yell, “Enough is enough!”


If knowing what is right isn’t enough to help us make the right decision, then what is?

Well, that’s different for everyone. For me it was fear. Fear of what would happen if I continued down the path I was traveling. I was absolutely terrified of more severe consequences and that was enough to make me stop and consider my options.

Have you had enough?

Tell me about it below. Your story will never be shared without your permission.


Categories: Rambling, Uncategorized, Writing | Leave a comment

Who’s Eligible for Today’s American Dream?

During the last ten years I have had the opportunity to know and work with many people from the Hispanic community, some of whom are undocumented migrants. I have found those that I know to be hard working and family oriented people who have sacrificed much for a chance to have what I was born with. The migrants that I know hold jobs that few US nationals would ever consider. They pay taxes and participate in the economy through commerce. They pay into the social security system and will never be eligible to receive any of those benefits. They send their children to school, attend church and dream of a better life for the next generation. Conversely I have known some migrants who (like many low income Americans) have needed healthcare for which they could not pay. I’ve known some that have abused alcohol and some that were prone to fighting.

The fact is that this country is not only a country of immigrants, but it has been built by employing migrant laborers to do the jobs that no established American wanted to do.  From 19th century Chinese workers building the transcontinental railroad to Hispanic laborers picking apples on the ridge in Sparta and working in the fish canneries in Washington today, migrant laborers start at the bottom of our labor force and strive to work their way into the general population.

Sometimes I feel as though we want to rewrite the words at the feet of the Statue of Liberty: Give me your strong, your affluent, your best and brightest yearning to get ahead; the beautiful and talented of your gleaming beaches. Send these, the stable and significant to me. But then again we tend to complain just as much when talented and educated people come and start successful businesses as we do when the housemaid tending to our hotel room can’t speak English.

No one has the choice where they are born. It takes a lot of courage to take destiny into your hands, sell everything you own, hand all your money to a stranger and pray that you make it to a new land. Then when you get to this new land, you are hunted every day. People don’t understand what you say; they look at you with suspicion or disdain. You don’t know the rules of society, yet somehow you are determined to persist until you figure it out. I don’t know what everyday life is like in the home country of those who have decided to make such a journey. The “push” for something different must stem from absolute desperation or star-stuck idealism.

Considering the fact that we live in one of the newer and more developed countries on the planet and we are a nation of immigrants, do you believe that the American Dream still exists today and if so, who should be eligible to pursue it?

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Dan’s home – and he brought presents!

One of the best parts of Dan’s travel is his coming home again. Of course I miss him – but I’m talking about presents. I just love to see what treasures he finds to bring home. He knows that I love all things that express the culture of the people he visits, and this time he brought me back a winner. Here is my new traditional hat from the Guambiano Indians of Colombia.

2014-05-16 07.26.41

The Guambianos have resisted western influence on their culture to a great extent. Their distinctive, colorful garb accentuates the lush, green landscape and expresses their love of beauty.

And… they really love hats!



Categories: Rambling | Leave a comment

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