Enough is a feast.

Rice. Grilled fish. Sliced tomatoes on a banana leaf. A glass of water. Sunlight on the table.

There's a kind of richness that has nothing to do with more. It's in the plain meal eaten slowly, with people you love, without checking your phone.

We're constantly told to want the next thing — the bigger house, the newer phone, the better trip. And wanting isn't wrong. But if enough never feels like enough, no amount of more will fix it.

Contentment is looking at what's on your table and deciding it's a feast. It usually is.