There are too many metaphors in this post - but bear with me.

We recently opened the doors to our Flower Club to enrol new members - and now we’re full.

There’s nothing we need to do to enrol new people until January.

And there’s a strange kind of silence that feels like it’s alternating between eerie and golden (that’s the best way I have of describing it).

The foot in my back pushing me towards more is absent in the presence of ‘enough’.

All the tension I hadn’t realised the foot was creating inside my body is gone.

When it feels eerie, it’s because it feels as If the motor that has been running the boat for decades has suddenly fallen silent and I’m adrift, just the silent wind carrying me onwards.

When it feels golden, it feels spacious and quiet and calm and truly relaxed.

I keep forgetting- so alien is the feeling of enough.

This morning my husband and I took the dog for a walk and because we work together, the conversation turned to the business.

“We could do x, that would be a great idea!” he said. “Yes, that would be so cool, we totally should….Oh! No need to” I replied.

“But we’re totally missing a trick by not y” he said. “Hmmm, no need to” I replied.

“And we are absolutely leaving money on the table by forgetting to z” he said. “Hmmm, no need to” I replied.

This is weird. Not least because it’s usually me overflowing with excited ideas about how to grow and scale and get ‘there’ faster.

There’s a gap in our conversation where ‘all things business growth’ used to be. There’s an empty page in to-do list - that’s going to take some getting used to.

I usually love the buzz of new and exciting ideas - it provides zest and vitality and the feeling of aliveness for me.

And yet the quiet is gorgeous.

Rich and full and complete and full of presence.

A simple knowing of how to look after the customers we already have.

Love them, mainly.

Which turns out to be the easiest thing in the world when you feel rich and full and complete and full of presence.