On Being OK
When I was younger, less jaded and perhaps more shiny, I used to say things like “it’s going to be okay” with the kind of confidence that fit like armor against any doubts that what I was saying could be wrong, impossible, or just plain stupid depending upon the circumstance. I could hold a heartbroken friend in my arms, rub my hands up and down her back, and whisper in her ear, “it’s going to be okay” like a mantra. I’d plant seeds of hope within both of our hearts even though we both knew the ground was sandy, not soil, fallow, not fertile. There has been, at times, a deep need in me for things to be okay. I’ve witness those of us who might be more wise, evolved, or crazy grab life’s...
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