You know I love OK. It is a two syllable word that is unto itself. Nothing more, nothing less. Kind of the golden mean of language. Universally used and accepted.
As a fifteen year plus survivor of lung cancer, I can tell you that it is, again and again, more than enough.
Yes. Once upon a time I viewed life differently. BC (before cancer) and AD (after diagnosis). Please ignore any perceived blasphemy.
No harm, no foul. OK.
I now love life life unconditionally. That’s right. Whatever shit it hands me, as long as I’m still standing, we’re in a functional relationship.
Not gonna argue that this was a survival strategy. My fairy tale version of existence was a fail. But because I am dedicated to surviving, I made some adjustments. It’s all good.
Of course, I have faltered. Depression and mouth sores almost took me down. Well, that and a pandemic. But fucking A, I rallied.
And now I feel it’s important to reinforce what I truly believe. We humans are going to be ok.
Not necessarily the world we once knew. There is going to be pain. And loss. At times we are going to feel as if we can’t go on.
But then we will. Go on.