The Myth of More: From Emptiness to Enoughness

Gratitude, in the United States, is often reduced to a platitude: a fleeting gesture of thanks given once a year. This time of year, gratitude risks becoming an empty ritual. More troublingly, gratitude can feel either like a moral obligation or entirely transactional—like a reflexive response to a gesture. We know that at its best, our best, gratitude is more than that. Do we actually understand why we give thanks and why it matters? What if it was an invitation to recognize that what you have is enough—that you are enough?

What if gratitude encouraged us to live with an acknowledgement of enoughness.

Enoughness: A Radical Shift

Gratitude has the potential to awaken a sense of “enoughness.” This shift challenges the very foundation of what is called “the house that modernity built.” This metaphorical house—our modern construct—rests on pillars of progress, accumulation, and endless striving. It tells us that we are incomplete, that to be whole, we must consume more, achieve more, and perform more. At its core, it whispers: You are not enough. But no matter how much we acquire or accomplish, many of us feel empty or depleted, trapped in rooms filled with lack masquerading as achievement.

Here’s something to consider: the opposite of emptiness isn’t fullness—it’s presence.

The Myth of Fullness

The “house that modernity built” wants us to equate fullness with achievement: a bigger home, a longer résumé, a larger bank account. But this kind of fullness is illusory. The relentless pursuit of “more” only deepens the hollow ache. No amount of consumption or stuffing can truly nourish the soul. In fact, it often does the opposite, leaving us with a longing that feels insatiable, despite feeling good in the moment.

To feel burnished, whole, or truly alive (read: present) requires something modernity often denies us: the courage to pause and connect.

Ask yourself, what drives your desire for more?

The Truth Behind Your Desires

Beneath every want lies a sense of lack. And beneath that lack is grief—the grief of disconnection. It is a voice that says: I am not enough. This grief, swept into corners and hidden behind closed doors, fuels the house of modernity. It isolates us and keeps us endlessly craving more.

It recognizes that our desires often emerge from a perceived void—a sense that something is missing or incomplete in our lives. This perceived lack, when examined closely, frequently reveals the following:

• Grief of disconnection from self: A feeling of being estranged from one's inner truth, values, or purpose.
• Grief of disconnection from others: A longing for deeper relationships, belonging, or community.
• Grief of disconnection from the natural world: A sense of alienation from the cycles, rhythms, and interconnectedness of life.

Accepting this truth acknowledges that our culture of striving and accumulation often masks a deeper, more vulnerable reality: a collective and individual mourning for the loss of wholeness, presence, and interconnectedness.

The Architecture of Presence

To leave the house that modernity built and move toward connection, we must embrace presence. Presence requires surrender—not acts of resignation but radical acts of liberation. Surrender invites us to be present with ourselves and others, open to the full spectrum of life. It calls us to dismantle the walls that separate us from what we fear and resist closing off.

As Gesturing Toward the New so beautifully states, surrender means “learning to be at peace with the cycles of life and death … and life forces that are beyond our control.” Similarly, Francis Weller teaches “A grateful heart acknowledges and participates in the ongoing exchange with life. … It is a confirmation that we are inextricably bound to every other thing. In this sense it is a reflection of belonging.” Gratitude, then, reflects our belonging and inherent enoughness.

Enoughness as a Form of Power

In surrender, we practice enoughness, which makes way for gratitude.  Father Richard Rohr reminds us: “Surrender will always feel like dying, and yet it’s the necessary path to liberation. … Surrender isn’t giving up, as we often think; it’s a giving to the moment, the event, the person, and the situation.”

It dissolves the illusion of control that modernity insists we maintain. It allows us to notice the cracks in its walls, to understand that the house we’ve built cannot hold the complexity of life’s truths anymore, inviting us to reimagine its foundations.

Reimagining the Foundation

This season, instead of viewing gratitude as a fleeting act, consider a deeper, ongoing reflection on your relationship with:

• Lack: What drives your sense of scarcity?
• Emptiness: What lies at the heart of your desire for more?
• Grief: What unacknowledged grief do you carry?
• Belonging: Where do you long to belong?
• Enoughness: How can you practice recognizing that you are enough?

In doing so, we begin to dismantle the architecture of lack and disconnection and rebuild from a place of presence. Gratitude becomes not an act rooted in reaching for more but a state of being—a quiet acknowledgment that we are enough, just as we are.

To live in this truth is to surrender the illusion of modernity’s house and dwell instead in the vastness of life itself. Here, presence becomes our home, and grief becomes a sacred invitation to remember what was always ours: the fullness of being, bound inextricably to the web of life.

To explore how grief can become a guide toward presence, gratitude, and wholeness, join us for The Gates of Grief workshop starting December 1. Together, we’ll unpack the hidden layers of loss and longing, reclaim our connection to self, others, and the natural world, and discover how grief can be a radical act of liberation and belonging.

Register now to join us on this transformative journey. Learn More & Sign Up