I have one-third of the year laid out before me in my pocket diary. I notice that all I see ugliness and scarcity; I didn’t walk enough, I didn’t run at all. I stop and look again. Let me focus on the numbers. It is all right there. I have tracked and measured. I took 13 overnight trips, two day trips and hosted six sets of overnight visitors. I got into one car accident, got a new dog and moved my body with walking, Nia or yoga–96 days out of the 120. I gained nine pounds, cooked countless meals as well as took at least 34 trips to the grocery store. When I look at the numbers all I seem to focus on is scarcity – failure, loss, comparison –I didn’t do not enough, I am not enough.

Some numbers seem to erase the power of other numbers. Erase the fact that I read seven books, saw 20 movies, ok 19– I saw Avatar twice. Went on a date with my youngest son three times, saw my other son kick the winning goal in a come-from-behind thriller. Did some glorious spring skiing with each child, received an amazing number tangible and intangible gifts from friends, family and clients. I also celebrated the arrival of one niece, launched a new brand and website for the company, and published, Diving into Enough, our book of our first year of blog postings. We grew the company over 200% when compared to this same time frame last year, and I was one of the planners and leaders of the third Global Sufficiency Summit, which started as an idea in an e-mail four years ago.

How do we create a context of sufficiency when numbers don’t lie? When the measuring itself might be weapon of scarcity? When I look at the 24 days I didn’t walk, the nine pounds I gained, the 27 days I wasn’t at home, do I have the strength to focus on all of what is, not just what is wrong or what is missing? Maybe the numbers point me toward something, maybe they show that the tools I put in place at the end of 2009 are actually working?

I focused on body movement, company growth and new brand launch while hosting a kick-ass summit. I spent seven nights on vacation or on retreat honoring a commitment I made to rest and play. Maybe these measurements can be seen as my compass and nothing more. Maybe there is no need to do anything, only notice– to notice the reaction in my body, my breath, my emotions– to feel the weariness of travel, to celebrate and entire month at home in February and to hug my Seven Stones family for a job well done. Maybe I can embrace the knowledge that I allocated my thoughts, my time and money toward creating a context of sufficiency. I declare at the one-third mark of 2010 I am enough.

With that declaration I can now look at what would allow for my highest good today and align my mind, body and soul toward that.