© 2019 Tara Aal

OK

August 16, 2016

 

Yesterday (now 3 days ago), in a brief moment of low grade horror, in the midst of hours behind the camera, in the heat and bustle of wedding happenings, I was struck with my belief that I will be ok. The minor, or not so minor, horror I felt was in feeling how me believing I am 'ok' has dismantled my structure.

 

My 'ok' isn't dependent on me feeling a certain way, the absence or presence of certain things, a predefined state of happy, a perfect functioning body, or a prescribed amount of attention and admiration. I am ok. No thing is wrong because I don't like it. My liking is irrelevant in the context of ok.

 

I've been convincing myself I'm not ok the majority of the minutes of my life. And, it's bullshit. From all my choosing not to know, I now know this. I've loved to distrust my capacity to be ok. And I've tried hard to make me ok, to no avail; the ultimate futility. For how can I ever succeed at making something other than what it already is? To make my ok not ok is akin to making an apple an orange. I just am. And I am ok.

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