“More” has no finish line unless you draw one. Without a personal definition of enough, the default becomes comparison—and comparison is bottomless. There is always someone richer, always someone younger, always someone who seems to have it easier.
The danger isn’t wanting improvement. The danger is the appetite that keeps escalating, even when the cost becomes absurd. That appetite can turn reasonable ambition into self-sabotage: taking risks you don’t need, chasing status you don’t even enjoy, refusing to step off the treadmill because stopping feels like losing.
Enough is not a number you discover; it’s a boundary you choose. And choosing it is less about restraint than about freedom: the freedom to stop playing games you can’t win.
If you can’t say “I have enough,” you’ll eventually treat your life like a bet that must keep getting larger. And large bets have one special property: they don’t forgive mistakes.