There are rare turns when the lifelong sense of not-enough can fully loosen — when a whole life can be felt, just once, as already plenty.

Blue gone rich, the gold at its heart at its fullest and most still. It rings like a great bell sounding on and on, carries the deep scent of cedar and honeyed resin, and tastes of ripe fig and dark honey.

A lifetime of never-enough can feel like simple clear-sightedness about the world. This brings nothing, adds nothing, and promises nothing — it holds the fullest stillness, where an entire life can be felt, this once, as wholly enough.