Today I Choose to be Replete – How to be Replete

We often think being “full” means more—more food, more achievements, more possessions, more doing. But one of the most replete moments of my life came during a year when the world felt stripped bare.

It was 2020, in the full throes of COVID. Masks, uncertainty, constant news cycles—everywhere felt heavy.

And yet, we decided to take all the grown kids and my niece to Keystone, Colorado.

The Fullness of Buffalo Plaid

I had bought everyone Buffalo plaid onesie pajamas (which they grudgingly wore, much to my delight). That day we’d gone sightseeing, had dinner together, and then ice skating. Back at the rustic townhouse, everyone was gathered in their jammies, the kids laughing over a game of Pictionary.

I stood in the kitchen for a moment, just watching.

My family was relaxed, safe, playful. No big plans, no perfect Instagram moments, no striving. Just togetherness. My chest loosened, my breath came easier, and I felt it wash over me: I was replete.

It was everything I needed, and nothing else was required.

That’s when I realized fullness isn’t about more. Sometimes, being replete means recognizing you already have enough.

The Physics of Feeling Full

Replete has a physical quality I can still feel:

• Chest expansion: Like my ribcage finally had room to fully open
• Breath deepening: From shallow worry-breaths to full belly breathing
• Shoulders softening: Dropping from their permanent position near my ears
• Eyes moistening: Not quite tears, but that fullness that comes before them
• Warmth spreading: From center outward, like internal sunshine

Standing in that kitchen, watching my grown children be silly in their ridiculous pajamas, I felt fuller than I had at any fancy dinner or big achievement.

Replete in the Time of Less

2020 stripped away so much. Travel, gatherings, normalcy, certainty. We were all living with less. And yet, in that townhouse in Keystone, I discovered that less can create space for replete.

Without the usual distractions—no rushing to activities, no packed schedules, no one needing to be anywhere else—we had each other fully. The simplicity created fullness.

What Replete Is Not

I used to think replete meant:

• Having everything figured out
• Achieving all your goals
• Bank accounts full
• Calendar packed
• No wants left

But that night taught me replete is actually:

• Recognizing what you have
• Feeling the fullness of now
• Hearts full, regardless of bank accounts
• Calendar clear enough to be present
• Wanting nothing more than this moment

The Surprise of Feeling Full

Replete often catches me off guard. It doesn’t announce itself with fanfare. It seeps in quietly:

During morning coffee, when Curtis brings it in my dragonfly mug and the simple gesture feels like abundance.

Watching the chickens, Gertrude and Meredith scratching in the dirt, and feeling oddly complete watching their chicken joy.

After a difficult conversation that went better than expected, feeling full of relief and connection.

Reading a text from Jesse or Tyler, something simple like “love you mom,” and feeling my cup overflow.

Creating Conditions for Replete

I can’t force feeling replete, but I’ve learned to create conditions where it’s more likely to visit:

Slow down enough to notice. Replete can’t catch you if you’re running. That night in Keystone, we had nowhere to be, nothing to achieve.

Gather without agenda. No planned activities, no forced fun. Just being in the same space, letting whatever happens happen.

Choose presence over performance. I wasn’t trying to be the perfect mom or create the perfect memory. I was just there, watching, receiving.

Notice what’s already here. Instead of scanning for what’s missing, I looked at what was present: healthy kids, laughter, safety, silly pajamas.

The Replete Paradox

The more I chase replete, the more elusive it becomes. It’s like trying to catch a butterfly—the pursuit scares it away. But when I stop chasing, when I stand still in my metaphorical kitchen, it lands on me.

Last month, I was stressed about year-end financials, worried about deadlines, feeling distinctly not replete. Then I looked up from my computer and saw a cardinal at the feeder, its red brilliance against the winter grey. For that moment, I was completely full. The work was still there, the deadlines unchanged, but I was replete.

Replete vs. Satisfied

There’s a difference between satisfied and replete:

• Satisfied says “that’s enough”; replete says “this is abundance”
• Satisfied checks a box; replete fills your whole being
• Satisfied is mental; replete is visceral
• Satisfied is temporary; replete leaves a lasting imprint

That night in buffalo plaid, I wasn’t just satisfied with our family gathering. I was replete with the fullness of it, and I can still access that feeling now, years later.

When Replete Feels Impossible

Some days, replete feels like a foreign language. When bills pile up, when work overwhelms, when relationships strain, when loss aches. On those days, I remember that replete doesn’t require perfect circumstances.

Even in difficulty, small moments of fullness exist:

• The perfect temperature of shower water
• The first sip of coffee
• A unexpected kind text
• The dog’s happy tail wag
• The way light falls across the kitchen table

These tiny repletes don’t erase difficulty, but they remind me that fullness can coexist with challenge.

Sharing Replete

One of the beautiful things about feeling replete is that it spreads. That night in Keystone, my fullness seemed to create permission for everyone else’s. When one person truly feels full, it creates a field others can step into.

Now when I feel replete, I try to let it show. Not in a performative way, but in a genuine overflow. When Curtis does something small that fills me up, I tell him. When a moment with friends feels complete, I name it. When work actually feels fulfilling, I acknowledge it.

The Accumulation of Fullness

At 61, I’ve noticed that replete builds on itself. Each moment of genuine fullness creates capacity for more. It’s like my container for contentment has expanded through use.

That night in buffalo plaid pajamas, watching my family play Pictionary during a global pandemic, I learned that replete isn’t about having everything. It’s about recognizing when what you have is everything you need.

Today’s Invitation to Replete

Right now, in whatever circumstances you find yourself, replete is possible. Not because everything is perfect, but because something, somewhere in your life, is full.

Maybe it’s the way the light is falling right now. Maybe it’s that you have food in your fridge. Maybe it’s that someone, somewhere, loves you. Maybe it’s just that you’re breathing and alive and capable of feeling.

Stand in your own kitchen, literally or metaphorically. Look around at what’s there—not what’s missing. Feel the fullness that already exists, waiting to be noticed.

You might just find you’re more replete than you realized. Sometimes all it takes is buffalo plaid pajamas and the courage to stop and notice.