Hanukah and Enough Already by Winifred Nathan

As I prepare for the Hanukah celebration this year, the word that resonates with me is “enough.” I will light candles for eight nights, recalling that in the beginning, there was not enough oil to rededicate the temple after the victory of the Maccabees over the Syrian Greeks, but then there was enough.

How much is enough? The dictionary tells us that enough means having as much or as many of something as required.

During the government shutdown when SNAP was at risk, we learned that one in eight Americans qualify for the program, revealing how many people are food-insecure in our country. The one in eight includes the working poor, disabled, and children. Their issue is quantitative: the amount of food they can afford does not provide adequate nourishment. On the spectrum of enough, they are on the shortage end. Just as the temple needed more oil to be rededicated, they need more food to sustain themselves. 

On the other end are hoarders who have too much of something but keep acquiring more because they never feel they have enough. Satisfaction for them appears unachievable. A tragic example is someone who hoards animals, usually cats and dogs. The rescued animals often need rescuing from their rescuer’s care. This well-meaning person cannot balance their finite ability with what they see as an infinite need. They keep welcoming one more animal, not recognizing their limits. They simply can’t stop acquiring aware of an endless number of animals in need of homes. 

I wonder if the top 20%—with their expensive everything—are fundamentally hoarders? Can they ever have enough cars, yachts, or homes? The tragedy is that their pursuit can result in inadequate pay for those who work for them to meet basic needs. Many at the top own multiple homes while children and employees at the lower end sleep in shelters. Too often that employee is a single mom doing everything she knows to do to hold things together. 

I reframe my hoarding as collecting. I don’t need another painting, piece of glass, or pottery, but I know I will be tempted to buy more artwork if I visit a gallery. I have several pieces of glass stored and rotate paintings. The number of artworks I need to feel satisfied eludes me. Am I attempting to satisfy an infinite with a finite amount?

Sanctifying the temple was a miracle. But a miracle should not be required for people who work full time to earn enough pay to acquire food and meet basic needs. CEOs can make it a priority to pay employees a living wage, seeking satisfaction not only in the value of their company stock price but also in the opportunity they give their workers to live secure lives. Without the workers, there would be no listing on the stock exchange.

And what about my search for beauty? Could the answer be in appreciating what I already have? I realize that some days I barely glance at the paintings on my walls, and pottery becomes utilitarian. I no longer notice the unique glaze that initially attracted me. The answer to enough isn’t acquiring more art or pottery but truly appreciating what I already possess. Simply acquiring more won’t fulfill my quest for beauty.

During the eight days of Hanukah, I will remind myself that a finite thing will never match an infinite need. I can’t feed everyone who is hungry, but a donation to a food bank can make a difference. I can support government programs and advocate for employers to pay a living wage. I will also recognize that the journey to feeling satisfied can be rooted in appreciation and gratitude for what I already have.