It’s just before 10am, and I’m at a Dunkin Donuts in this adorable town of Cookeville, TN. Behind me, a man in a football jersey is trying to coax his slightly plump chocolate lab Coco to rest, and I’m having cup of coffee number two. I just dropped my friend off at the airport on the way back to the farmhouse from a great conference and an amazing quiet night with friends by a bonfire.

The sun is perfect today. The air cool. And I can stop and see that. It’s glorious.

Tomorrow, I will wake up, play with the puppy, write, read, edit, and probably finish season 3 of The Vampire Diaries. I will pick up more sticks from the yard and begin chopping by the underbrush to make way for goat fencing. I may even hang curtains.

It’s not the life of a jet-setter, but it’s perfect for me. Slow. Quiet. Full of people I love and dancing with words.

In a few minutes, I’ll leave Coco (who still has not laid down) and her owner here in Cookeville to live their lives. My new friends are winging their way back to their homes across the country or sleeping off a great night in comfy beds with no dust ruffles. I’ll get back on I-40 and go east, Margaret Atwood’s stories my companion. So good. So so good.

It’s easy to think that life should be always more, to imagine that if I do more, see more, work more, know more then suddenly life will be full. The thing is – it’s already so perfectly packed full of sunlight and fire, breezes and breath. I just need to soak it in.

Sometimes enough is more than enough.

What is enough in your life?