“Enough”

I was dancing to The Dead, eyes closed, blissed out and lost in this music that I have loved and followed for most of my life, when something happened that I had never experienced before…

We were at the Walnut Amphitheatre for the “Final” tour of Dead & Company, and it was an epic night.  The boys had crescendoed into a frenetic, crazy ending to “They Love Each Other”, leaving us amazed, delighted and exhausted. And that wasn’t the encore! In fact, it was just the second song of the night!  I turned to Rio, my son, and said “Fasten your seat belt! If they are playing like that starting with song two, we are in for a ride!”  And we were.  

Just like at the very first Dead show I ever saw (Carter Finley Stadium, Raleigh, July 10 1990), we had thunder and lightning, and the sky rained liquid sunshine on us.  The clouds were gorgeous and ever-changing, and in them Rio and I saw the faces of Jerry Garcia, Freddie Mercury and my Nana.  We danced joyfully, sometimes hard, sometimes gently swaying. We both laughed full belly laughs at just how awesome it all is, how wonderful is life, how amazing the music pouring over us and flowing through us.  I found myself, again and again, putting my hands together in prayerful salute in front of my face and thanking Bobby and Mickey and the Boys for all of these decades of joy they’ve given us, for all the love and kindness they have poured into the music and the community and the world.

And I sit here and cry, again, as I write this, weeks later. The music of the Grateful Dead — and the connections and adventures I’ve had with my Deadhead Family — have been a deep and transformative gift in my life…  I am truly Grateful.

Just as I have before at shows that I thought might be the last (like the Fare Thee Well 50th Anniversary shows in 2015), I cried on and off in the middle of the dancing and the singing.  “Ramble on Rose” just about melted me into a little ball of sobs. Mostly the tears were of gratitude and joy — as these tears in my eyes today, as I write.  But it was also sadness, and anticipated loss… How could this be the last time?  Where have all these years gone?  Of course I don’t want this to end: not this show tonight, not this tour, not the band… 

“More!” I want more of all of this joy!  I always want more! That’s why I’ve so often traveled to other cities to see “one more show!”  That’s why I went on tour in the Summer of ’92, and went to all seventeen shows! 

That’s when it happened.  I was dancing with my eyes closed, laughing and crying and singing along, feeling it all, when a new feeling bubbled up inside me.  The feeling was “Enough.”  

It came on so strong that I stopped dancing and opened my eyes.  Same dusk sky, clouds billowing and changing shape. Same thousands of Deadheads dancing around me on the lawn. Same dear son of mine, dancing next to me, also eyes closed. But amidst all that beautiful sameness was this very new, very different feeling than anything I’d felt before during a Dead show:  “This is enough. This has been enough.”  I nodded my head just a tad, in agreement with the feeling/thought, and then I closed my eyes and went back to dancing.  

I continued to notice and think about this feeling… “If this is truly ‘the last time,’ I can live with that.  I don’t need ‘more’ to be happy.”  I felt truly satisfied, ready to embrace ‘whatever comes next.’

Before that night,  I’d been scheming to maybe catch a few more shows over the summer… maybe even go to San Francisco for the last three shows of the tour. of the era… But now I knew that I wouldn’t.  I didn’t need to. “It has been enough.”  Thirty three years of following the Dead has been a heart-filling adventure. And if it is ending, I can let it end, now.  I have other adventures to pursue. And then I went right on dancing, in complete joy, through to the end of “Black Muddy River,” the end of the show. The end of my years of seeing the Dead live.

But this experience of “Enough” was not — is not — just about the Dead.  It’s been bubbling up at other times, as well…  other activities that always have left me wanting more, things I’ve wanted to keep going, to last as long as possible, or happen again as soon as possible…

Like ultimate frisbee. For decades, I have always been one of the last ones on the field playing. I’ve always taken as few breaks during the games as possible. Endurance has been one of my favorite strengths… and maybe one of my principle shadows: always wanting more, chasing that elusive sense of “enough.” 

And like those all-night campfire jams I host at Shakori… We could play all night from Wednesday onward, and yet I’d still get to Sunday night mourning that the festival was coming to an end, and wishing I’d played even more, longer… 

Or like my nightowl existence: staying up well into the morning so many random nights, looking for that elusive sense that I’d “done enough” during that day to let myself go to sleep. 

Yes, I’ve struggled with finding that sense of “enough” in many ways in my life.

But now, starting with that unprecedented moment at the Dead show, this feeling of “enough,” of satisfaction, has been coming up more easily, more spontaneously. I am feeling at peace sooner and more often. I seem to have stumbled upon a new sense of “enough” in life.  And I am enjoying it immensely!  It’s allowing me to “just sit” a lot more than I used to. Just sit, for example, with Siobhan and hang out. Talking or not. Sitting on the deck, looking out at Whiteside Cove and Whiteside Mountain.  And I’m finding that at night, if I say it to myself out loud, “This is enough,” I can actually feel it, not have to have the “one last bourbon” or play the “one last game of Hearts” or make myself stay up til the end of the movie. It’s okay if that remains unfinished until tomorrow.  This day was enough.

A lot of this new experience, of course, comes from being old.  There’s an obvious logic that is playing out… once you’ve done something dozens or hundreds of times, It is much easier to enjoy the “enough-ness” of it than when you are starting out, getting your first shots at things.  

Yet to some extent, this feeling is arising, and staying with me ,because I have cultivated it, and I feel proud about that.  I’ve been intentionally choosing mindsets of gratitude and peace. For years, I’ve been consciously moving away from the constant, default sense of “needing more.”

So, based on this new expanding experience, I’m happy to report that, apparently, this intentional cultivation of peacefulness and satisfaction does work!  

Enough said.