Until Next Time

“Tell me about despair, yours, and I

will tell you about mine. Meanwhile

the world goes on.” – Mary Oliver

Life was fast and aggressive before all of this.

I would hiss and scratch at friends’ warnings against being so savage at a high speed. Equal parts dedication, intensity, & wilderness – as long as there was no slowing down. The Feral Life isn’t without responsibility but it is without past or future, permitting full concentration. My work soared because of it. It’s how I was raised, to prioritize passion and purpose. My past liner notes illustrate that I don’t know any strangers but being compartmentalized was crucial since certain truths are easier told to people you won’t see again.

This timeline seems unrecognizable by comparison.

Recent events marked between appointments, scans, labs, treatments, and the echo of an acquaintance that says “until next time”. Almost a year after diagnosis and I still feel that I’m too new at this to fully grasp any of it. I admit that I never will comprehend it all but:

• Screaming, in its many forms, is useful.

• Surviving is easier if it’s not attempted as a solo act.

• Grinding up all that staggering change to create what needs to be explained, crossed out, sketched, and rewritten could help your people find you.

We are the recipients of the gross punchline that uncertainty is far from boring. Within ourdisrupted lives, we are embodying the experience outside of the known side effects and rewriting the educational pamphlets inside our heads. This odyssey can leave us stranded in the void left by loved ones that never showed up, but there is a sliver of space for being captivated by the unexpected in its wake. Community is worth taking a chance on, still stumbling, but with the valued possibility of connection.